


Between reality and dreams, where the memories lie

by EleonoraParker



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Analogy, Drama, F/F, F/M, Flashbacks, Fluff, Forced Marriage, Foster Care, Magic, Mental Confusion, Photographs, Social Issues, Suffering, SwanMills Family, SwanQueen Power, True Love, dream - Freeform, storybook
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:20:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 112,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26064880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EleonoraParker/pseuds/EleonoraParker
Summary: After the deflection of Pan's curse, Emma is living a happy life in New York with Henry.Until, one day, she run across an old photo album. It holds pictures from when she lived in Phoenix with Henry; he was just a baby and someone helped Emma raise him, a woman, Regina Mills.Since that moment, Emma's past starts a fight against her present, in which a weird man crushes into her life, claiming she is someone else, and against Emma's dreams, which show her memories from a different past, in a different town called Storybrooke.What is reality? What is just a dream? Which are Emma's true feelings?Will she succeed in finding herself again, coming back where the memories lie?
Relationships: Evil Queen | Regina Mills/Emma Swan
Comments: 22
Kudos: 45
Collections: Swan Queen Supernova V: Forever Starstruck





	1. Encounter

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Between reality and dreams, where the memories lie (art)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26085319) by [regalducky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/regalducky/pseuds/regalducky). 



> Hello everybody!  
> I'm so excited of being here introducing my first SQSupernova fic, which is also my first SwanQueen fic written in English.  
> I'm from Italy, English is not my first language, so please be kind if there are still some language mistakes in the story.  
> I really love SQSN, always have, and finally this year, my dream of being part of it came true.  
> This really has been a long and incredible journey, but it wouldn't have been possible without some very important people I had to thank right here.  
> First of all I want to thank my beta, AbigailSykes. She corrected all my language mistakes and helped me clarify some details of my story. She was always super kind with me and always supported my work giving me so much encouragement. Thank you!  
> Then, of course, I have to thank my matched artist, RegalDucky, who said amazing words for my story and made for it a wonderful piece of art, which you all have to see.  
> I have to give huge thanks to the SQSN mods, who since years put all of them in this project in order to let SwanQueen survive and thrive, even and especially now that Once Upon a Time is over.  
> Thank you! What you do is amazing and I'm glad to be part of it.  
> With them, I take the chance to thank also the whole SwanQueen fandom.  
> You are all amazing and you helped me a lot during these last years, by making me find something to believe in and something to stand up for. I'll always be one of you.  
> Last but not the least, I have to say a very special thank you to my incredible mother.  
> She is not an SQ shipper, but she helped me all the same, by giving me suggestions about the story, encouraging me to participate and to never give up, but most of all, by believing in me and in what I was doing even more than I did.  
> And thanks to all the people who will read my story and to the ones who will even leave me a comment. I would appreciate it so much!  
> Thank you all!

_Present day, New York_

Emma Swan didn't know how many times in her life she had to start from scratch. There had been so many, that she had lost count long time ago: new house, when she had one, new city, new acquaintances, new habits... And she forced herself to make each time as much different from the others as possible because there was always a reason to restart, and rarely was it a good reason. She preferred to keep the bad memories at a distance and she was trained by then to not over think them. What was essential was that they didn't affect the life of her son, Henry. He was the only thing in the world that mattered for her. But this time she had to say she has started over pretty well. After all, for once, what happened to their apartment in Boston, which had ended eaten up by flames, hadn't been her fault.

And now she understood that relocating to New York had been the best choice. It gave her a new job, new possibilities for Henry -who had grown up before she could realize it- a new apartment, better than the previous ones and suitable for just the two of them. Maybe it would have been suitable also for three, but she had had enough experience in her life to know to be cautious of introducing someone into her son's life: too many times those "someones" have turned into memories, painful for the most part. She was happy now, she really was, and she didn't want anything to jeopardize that happiness.  
And then, she had a boyfriend.  
Sweet eyes, kind ways, simple tastes, a good job: after eight months of a relationship with him, she was pretty sure she truly loved him. Not enough though to introduce him into their lives, because Henry was everything, and all she wanted was to make him happy and have him grow up in the stable environment she had never had. And, maybe, to keep a little bit of him for herself too. 

She turned to look at him, busy watering his plants, like every morning, and a smile tugged at her lips.  
He has showed a great passion for plants since he was a child, when he had read entire books of names, features and drawings, just to choose his favorite kinds of plants and flowers. Seeing him searching for them among the ashes and the fallen rafters of their burned apartment had broken her heart: there had been no traces left of them.

She mentally noted to buy new ones for Christmas, along with books of fairytales, which had gotten lost too.  
Fairytales have been, with plants, his greatest passion when he was a child, and still then she'd find him with one of those big tomes on his knees, lost in fantastic worlds. It makes him look strange to others' eyes, but to her, it was just tender to find him fallen asleep with his head on the drawing of an enchanted castle.  
And even if he had tried to hide it, she was sure she had seen him cry while he watched them turning into ashes in front of his eyes.  
But she would have remedy to that. She would do anything for him.  
For years, she had nothing, until Henry came. With him, she found her home and for him, she started to rack up the adorable frippery she has never needed.  
Despite of everything she had lost in the fire and in her life itself, she was sure she would recover everything. "Mom, it's getting late, I have to go to school. It's breakfast ready?"  
She heard him ask fearfully pressing, because even if he was just a boy, he already loved her with all his heart and he respected her, with a maturity she had no idea where he had gotten.  
"Sure honey, forgive me" she roused from her thoughts, putting eggs with bacon and toasted bread on the plate.  
She saw him sitting down, waiting patiently.  
"You're off work today, aren't you?"  
She smiled, understanding at once what that question aimed to.  
"Yes, I'm off. And yes, this evening it's dinner on the couch and a race to get over level seven."  
He laughed, trying to keep his mouth closed, while he devoured his breakfast.  
She sat in front of him, eating an apple, and watched him eating with eyes filled with what permeate the eyes of each mother worthy of being so called: an unconditional love, dyed of nostalgia for that part of her that is in her son, which every day takes a step farther away from her.  
"You still want to do it, right?" she asked, with a worry she hadn't expected to feel.  
He ended swallowing his last bite, then he smiled to her.  
"Of course, I want to."  
She smiled again, watching him stand up with all the enthusiasm of his eleven years.  
"I'll brush my teeth and go"  
She didn't even take the trouble to answer, since he had already disappeared behind the bathroom door.  
Instead, she stood up with a sigh, cleared the table and then started to sluggishly wash the dishes, letting the memories of her previous eleven years of life to show themselves to her, fleeting like reflections on the soap bubbles.  
She barely heard him when he left, shouting him a goodbye before he could slam the door behind him, with the usual crash that he always made, despite she had taught him not to.  
And, she was left alone in the quiet of her home in that Friday morning filled with powder sunlight.

Unlike just a few years before, now she liked to stay at home at morning: no more dust whose amount went over her possibility to polish it off, no more little broken toys scattered around to remind her how little her work allowed her to give to her son, no more empty silences when she was forced to stay far from her three years old child, even in her only day off, in order to find the time to clean around, or at least to try to, that suburban studio lighted by cold metal lights.   
It had been hard, more than she liked to admit.  
There have been times when everything seemed lost, when she really has believed she couldn't do it, when she has been on the point of leaving it all, even him, while he furiously screamed with an unspecific and innate wrath, unconsciously against a life that didn't give him what every child deserves.  
But she has gotten up every time. She has taken him in her arms and wiped away his tears, assuring him that everything would be ok, that his mother was there and everything would get better, one day.  
And she had turned assaulting her life again, with more grit than before, just to keep that promise.  
She had worked until bleeding, until she was so tired that she hadn't even the strength to cry, for just one of her son's smiles.  
And in the end, life had rewarded her, giving her that new job that has permitted her to climb up again toward a new light, a light that she has missed for too long, the light of hope.

And so, they had settled, they had started again. Not very well, but definitely better than before, leaving Phoenix and going to Boston.  
Both of them, with punches and kicks, had defeated the darkness, climbing up with their nails on the stone walls that confined their lives, reaching freedom and the world that isn't perfect, but that at least is lighted up by the sunlight.

Because of this, she had been afraid when the flames had devoured their house in Boston. She had feared, with a terror owned only by the ones that had walked through hell and gotten out of it, that they were going to fall again into that darkness without escape. She had feared that she wouldn't be capable of fighting to rise again. For this reason, standing still watching the smoking ashes of the building they used to live, she had understood that trying to reverse what, after being built with so much effort, had collapsed would have been useless. And she had decided to start from scratch, her and him alone, like it had always been, in one of the cities with the best perspective: New York.

And New York didn't let them down.  
The job she had found in the field of private investigations, paid her even better than her last and they had gotten a good apartment.  
Now, she was living the most peaceful years of all her life, satisfied, almost in peace with herself, and maybe for the first time free from the chains of regrets.  
Was this happiness? She didn't know, but she intended to live those years and her son's adolescence all the way and eventually discover it.

She turned on the radio to have some distraction from the boring housecleaning.  
She thought, lifting up a small wooden swan, that after all it didn't take them much time to fill the house of stuff, the closets with clothes and the shelves with books.  
She looked at these last ones, brushing with her fingers the aligned spines in different colors of a animals' short encyclopedia.  
She knew the song played on the radio, and she started humming its melody without uttering its words when suddenly an interference changed the station, spreading new notes in the air.

She stopped.  
She remembered that song. She could have never forgotten it.  
She didn't fail to notice how its words automatically came to her lips, although it has been years since the last time she had listened to it, but she forced her lips to stay shut, insecure about what could escape from them, maybe just a moan of repressed suffering.  


_I'm finding it hard to believe, we are in heaven..._

But she didn't have to remember now; it was not one of the moments in which she could do it.  
And then, everything was alright, there was nothing to remember.  
She squeezed her eyes, forcing herself to recover from that moment that had left her breathless and wordless because of those memories.  
But as soon as she tried to move on, she saw where her hand had laid without wanting it, during those moments.  
An opaque leather's spine roughly caressed her palm, while , almost deprived of the determination of the past seconds, she let her hand run over it.  
How long had it been since she last took it in her hands? She didn't know exactly, but it must have been a long time, a very long time.  
She sighed, not knowing what to do, torn between a silent call of pawing pages and a soft push of remindful notes from a past time.  


_It isn't too hard to see, we are in heaven..._

She knew it would have hurt in the same way it did every time she pretended it didn't, pushing herself to think over those memories as little as possible, driving them out, but every time, a smell of home or of a just baked cake brought her back their essence.  
But despite everything in the end, she gave in.

She extracted that big book from the shelf with decision, in the fear of cowardly changing her mind and brought it with her on the couch.  
Everything she was doing before vanished from her mind, while she turned off the radio that now was playing a hit from last year, and sat down, settling the book on her legs.   
She caressed its cover, with a small fear of giving light back to that old paper.  
She still remembered the moment when she had received it, to preserve her first promise of stability, their fairytale. Maybe just hers.  
She opened it sighing , revealing its true nature to be a photo album and, like she had imagined, the first picture was enough to squeeze her heart.

They were smiling, her face ten years younger, her son little and chubby, like he was as a baby, and a woman that, like her, held him in her arms. All the three of them were watching the lens in that fleeting instant, immobilized in time in order to become immortal, behind a cake with a big "one" drawn on it.  
She slightly brushed the right side of the picture: a blue tube dress, brown hair and two eyes of incredible deepness overflowing with sweetness, while her arms cradled Henry.   
She smiled, like one smiles to the consciousness to be part of an incomplete happiness.  
She missed that smile on the polished paper.

_"Henry's first year_

_Emma Swan_

_Regina Mills"_

She winced reading her name. Or maybe their name, together on the same page.  
She wondered again if she was really ready, or just too stubborn to back down, and her hands answered her in a rustle of pages.

She hadn't had photos from Henry's first months, or rather, the ones in the album weren't hers.  
She had been stupid enough to lose his first months of life, even if she hadn't exactly done it on her own will.  
She saw him sleeping when he was just a few days old, with his eyes still closed, just like his fists, in a weak complaint, in that slight, primordial rage that already from the beginning had suggested his newborn mind that all of that was not what he was meant to have.  
While the pictures scrolled in time, she saw him changing: the first time his eyes were open wide, the first wonder, the first hint of a smile.  
She smiled, like she couldn't help doing every time she saw him, so sweet and unique.  
She caressed the neat and tidy handwriting that dated those first pictures.  
And at first, she didn't notice, watching them with eyes full of love, that she had reached the first turn of her life. She saw it when the pictures went from clear and defined to blurred and moved, taken with something who's quality was not even remotely similar to the one of the device used before.  
Those were _her_ first pictures of her son, marking the moment in which he had entered her life.

She smiled again, remembering how it was to hold him in her arms for the first time, remembering the fear of letting him fall, the terror of not being enough for him.  
He had been a miracle and she had been the lucky one who had him in her life.

_Arrival at home. Finally, with mom!_  
_(who is she?)_

She laughed softly, reading the silly way in which they had described the puzzled expression of the child, just four months old, while he looked at her from her arms, her head slightly cut from a self-portrait badly framed. There was no wonder in his suspiciousness, after living for four months with someone else, someone more refined and responsible, probably better than her, who had fed him when it was everything he asked for, who had calmed down his first nights of cries and who had taught him all he needed in order to survive and, by then, all he knew.  
Someone he had learnt to consider his mother.

She had shot those photos by herself. Then, someone had brought order among them, as in her life, arranging them in that album, giving them a title, bringing to light the meaning held in them, which was already present but terribly confused, twisted, like her own life was: a life that they two had filled with a new light.  
That name on the page, that figure who started to appear just after a few pictures , bringing back to them the lost sharpness.  
_Regina Mills_ It seemed like she hadn't thought about that name for centuries. Instead she knew she had it in mind every single day, in every single action she did. She even saw her face in her son's eyes every time she looked deeper inside them.  
And what was Regina Mills for her?  
She was the anchor in a life too complicated to handle, the light which had turned Emma's darkness into the courage she needed to face up to the present; she was who Emma should have been if she hadn't been who she was.  
From the first time she had seen her, she had known she wouldn't ever be able to compare to her, and at the same time Regina was who had turned her flaws into her strengths, her mornings into laughter, her nights into whispers of flame, and the baby who was just her child into her _son._  
She had been what she had always searched for and, like the hope to gain it before knowing her, she was gone in a polythene memory.  
She sighed, caressing her face in the picture, in the apathetic silence of a memory of happiness; a happiness which had been destroyed without rancor.

_First birthday. Party with moms_.

She turned the page.

**\---**

_Thirteen years ago, Phoenix_

145 E Jefferson Street, Phoenix

That address has been staring at her for almost an hour from the little piece of paper she convulsively clenched in her left hand.  
It was deadpan in the stasis of ink, like the more than frequent glances it was subjected to weren't.  
The place where she was meeting her son.  
Emma felt a shiver running through her spine for the umpteenth time when she tried again to realize what was about to happen.  
She was happy, very happy, that finally those four months of suffering had passed, that finally she was going to hold her baby, to study his features in every little detail, like she hadn't been able to do in the few moments in which she had kept him in her arms right after his birth.  
She had missed him terribly.  
He had been her prison mate, her only reason to go on, but still it was a stranger to her. And for this reason, she was scared, scared to death. She has a mad and blind fear that made her tremble on her knees at every step she was taking, as she hurried toward that destination so close and still so far.  
On one hand, she was scared of not being able to recognize her son when she would see him. She was scared of not even finding him. And she was scared of him, of not being enough, of being reject again even from her own creature, like too many times had happened in her life.  
Maybe, during her absence, he had found the perfect mom that she would never be able to be.  
Maybe instead, he had found a bad one, one to fill him with fright, and now was on her to ease that fright.  
In every way, she tried to find thoughts capable of allaying her worry, giving her that bit of trust she missed. It always ended up this way: she lost herself in a forest of doubts, fears and uncertainties which became more and more dense every time. So, she gave it up, checking the address one more time, like she didn't already know it by heart.

She stopped abruptly, noticing she had arrived. It seemed to her like she had walked for a lifetime and yet like she has arrived too early.  
She looked to the five story building sprawling in front of her, a squat and greyish structure which occupied the full block.  
She hugged herself in her leather jacket, victim of a cold that made her sweat.  
She wasn't ready. It was too early.  
But when she would ever be?  
She sighed: those were questions she should have asked herself before, she bitterly thought.

Still, a part of her was sure that without him inside of her, she couldn't have gotten through prison.  


She had never been there before; her thefts had never been so substantial to make her pass more than one or two nights in the police station. And even then, she had not been ready.  
That period of endless eleven months had been a torture. But even if unprepared, betrayed and sick in her soul and in her body, she had gotten through it.  
So, what was telling her that then it wouldn't be the same?  
She marveled at herself for finally being able to generate a positive thought. And she profited by that wave of optimism allowing her to make the first step toward the other side of the street, breathing with her full lungs the fresh air of that winter afternoon, searching in herself for the strength to not fail again.

One or two guards watched over the glass entrance. They quickly looked her up and down with aloofness, staying quiet, apparently used to seeing people like her. She got close to the porter's lodge and walked to the woman with elongated glasses and fake reddish hair combed in a coiffure from the '50, who was studying something on the screen of her computer.  
"Excuse me, I'm searching for the point of meeting and reclaiming children born in penitentiary."  
She said what had been told her to, noticing only then how absurd and grotesque it sounded and the bitter taste it left on her tongue.  
The woman looked up to her just for a moment, then she answered automatically  
"Third floor, turn on the right. Do not take the elevator, it's broken."  
Emma analyzed her words for a second before stepping away.  
"Thank you..." she murmured .  
She reached the stairs and started to climb up. She didn't know what would have given her more pressure, if the steps that succeeded one another, bringing her to her destiny and offering her at every moment a way out that attracted her terribly despite her joy to have her son back, or seeing the numbers of the floors lighting up on the wall of the elevator, which would have been maybe faster and surely more direct.  
She sighed shaking her head, trying to concentrate on the surroundings instead, while she met the first of the two previous floors.

The building had, on the inside walls, the same color it showed on the facade , occasionally streaked with light blue when it got closer to the floors. Every landing showed indications like the ones in the hospitals, and the thing made her feel possibly even more uncomfortable than she already did.  
She heard cries and screams of children echoing in the air and she thought about how familiar that sound would become to her for at least the following three years.

_'Request and repeal of custody',_

she read at the first floor.  
She crossed a woman, going over it. She saw her closing the glass door throwing one last melancholy glance over it before turning around and going toward the stairs, wiping away from her face light traces of tears in a sharp motion and showing Emma a shaking and broken glance.  
She swallowed but she didn't stop. Instead she went on, even faster, to her destination, forcing herself to ignore the painful wetness of tears that soaked that place's walls.

_'Meeting centre and assignment of custody ',_

the sign ahead the second floor said. She shivered seeing some cradles right behind the glass door, and a couple that welcomed in its arms a baby about one years old, while old memories of tearing desire came back to her mind.  
When she reached the third floor she winced, realizing to be part of that building and that sorrow.

_'Protocol offices and pre-assignment meeting rooms-- minimum security prison '_

She swallowed again and waited a moment before entering.

The air on the inside seemed warmer to her. The voices were clearer; they didn't blend in a confusing echo but ran across the silence of the corridor of closed doors.  
She turned to the right, like she was told, until she heard herself being called by a young girl behind a desk built into the wall that she hasn't noticed before.  
"Sorry, who are you?"  
Emma turn back and got close to her, seeing her opening a big register.  
"Swan, Emma Swan. I have an appointment today."  
The girl didn't answer, analyzing with silent expertise the list of names in front of her until finding hers.  
"You have to meet your son, right? Birth date: August 15th, 2001, registered at the registry office as Henry Swan. Is it correct?"  
Emma nodded silently, left speechless from hearing his name and hearing him being called _'her son'_.  
" An identity document, please. Your release card and the judge's permission to take the baby"  
Emma nodded again, nervously, pulling out from her purse everything has been asked of her, going on the verge of panic when she believed to not have the permission with her. But she found everything in the end, and then stood still again, watching the girl analyzing the documents, glancing at her from time to time to compare her to the picture. When she was satisfied and convinced, she handed her back the permission and the release card, keeping the identity document.  
"You will take this back when you leave. Go until the end of the corridor, fourth door on the left."  
Emma nodded putting it all back in her purse with slightly trembling hands.  
"Thank you"  
She turned and started again to walk, counting the wooden doors that passed by her side, searching for the right one, with the same anxiety she had searching for the school principal's door every time she was kicked out of class when she was a child.  
Eventually, she found it. She took a deep breath before knocking.  
"Come in," said a masculine voice from the inside.

She opened the door slowly and stayed still staring at what the room concealed.  
Behind the wooden desk, submersed in the ocher color of walls studded with floral paintings, sat a dark-skinned man, probably the one whose office she was in, and in front of him sat a woman with a baby in her arms.  
Emma no longer heard noises around her, she didn't see any more of the room, or the two adults who were in it. In that moment, when she laid her eyes on her baby for the first time after four months, in which her pregnancy had seemed just a distant dream, she could focus on nothing else.  


_Her son_.

Asleep comfortably in the arms of the woman , peaceful.  
_Stranger._  
She felt her stomach squeeze in a bout of nausea, torn between the will of taking him and never let him go again, and the uncontrollable impulse to turn away and run, to never come back.  
But her feet were stuck to the ground, her eyelids to her forehead, the air to her lungs and her hand to the doorknob.  
"Miss Swan, please have a seat "  
She barely succeeded in hearing the masculine voice, sweetly patient and quietly amused, like one can be by a well-known joke.  
She forced herself to come to her senses and to tear her gaze away from the baby, turning to close the door and reminding herself she had to make a good impression and demonstrate she was worthy of that baby.  
She stretched a smile and sat where it was indicated, near that woman ,but still at a considerable distance. She cleared her throat and avoided her fake smile and her accusing gaze, looking at the man instead.  
"Good afternoon."  
He made an assertive nod with his bald head only streaked by the few grey hairs.  
"Good afternoon miss. Can I offer you something? A coffee? Some water?"  
She swallowed finding her throat more dry than ever, but she preferred to not ask for anything  
"I'm alright, thank you."

"Perfect. So, we can start." he said, taking just a few moments to look at her before extracting a sheet of paper from the folder on his desk.

"So, you are Miss Emma Swan, eleven months in the minimum security prison in Phoenix due to a theft of watches, mother of Henry Swan, born on August 15th, 2001, father identified as Neal Cassidy yet he hasn't recognized him. Correct me if I'm wrong."  
Emma swallowed, lowering her glance. She had heard people rub those things in her face a lot of times, and just hearing them again made her blood boil in a mixture of rage and shame toward the world, Neal, and maybe, above everyone, herself.  
She nodded, "it's right."  
The man went on, his voice calm.  
"You have come up with some charges on this man and even if they are not confirmed and you had served your sentence, we can't ignore a report. I want you to know that an arrest warrant has been put out for this man, at least to query him, so you don't have to fear about your safety or your baby's because if he should try to do something, he would be arrested at once. "  
Emma had thought long about whether or not to reveal the identity of Henry's father because the smallest and most stupid part of her, in some way, still wanted to protect him. That small part of her still hoped that it had been all a misunderstanding, and that maybe he would have fixed everything; he would have come to save her.  
Until, the day when she had given birth to her child, among the labour pains, she had understood that the only misunderstanding had been the love she had thought she felt for him, and that he pretended to feel for her. Nothing else.  
Because if he had wanted to find a solution, she had been sure he would have already succeeded. Instead, he had vanished into thin air, abandoning her like everybody had done, pregnant and alone in an undeserved prison. And maybe she would had also lost her son, the only thing that mattered, all due to him.  
So, she had revealed his name, she had told the truth, all the truth, as useless as it could have been, because by then she had nothing more to lose.

"He won't do it. He is a coward, he won't come back." and she knew that probably wasn't the time, but the impulse to say it has been stronger than her.  
She felt the piercing eyes of the woman on her, but she didn't turn to look back.  
The man nodded, compliantly looking her in the eyes.  
"I hope that, for both of you..."  
Then he again lowered his eyes onto the paper sheet.  
"You were freed two months ago and you work in the Arizona Centre as..."  
"Shop assistant in a clothing store. "  
He nodded again.  
" Your current income has been already checked and your apartment, even if surely provisional ..." he threw to her an almost warning glance, "...prove itself to be adequate. With the livelihoods put at your disposal by the government during these first months, you should not have problems raising him with security, granting him all the essentials for a healthy growth. Moreover, during your prison period, you haven't showed signs of addictions, imbalance or destructive tendencies, so we consider in general your conditions suitable for raising a child."  
Emma sighed in relief, considering that the first compliment she received in what has seemed like an eternity.  
She saw him closing the folder. A part of her admired him even just for not watching her with that expression of superiority and disgust that everybody took on when they knew her records.

"But now miss, it's left you as a person."

She felt the serenity leaving her as fast as it came, and she noticed that weirdly she wasn't doing anything to stare again at that baby who impended on her like the biggest responsibility of her life just a few meters away.  
"What?" she asked.  
"You. Do you want to take this baby with you? Is this what you really want?  
You know, my task is, come to this point, to evaluate the parents that come here in order to decide if they really can take this responsibility that, we should all agree, it's an enormous one.  
But, as far as I know, economic and penal conditions permitting, all that could really determine the ability of a man or a woman to be parents is their will.  
I want you to know, just to display you your rights, that you are not forced to accept. This is a custody, but, if this is your will, it could become an adoption, even closed, if you prefer.  
No one is forcing you into anything; all that we ask you is to think over the task you are accepting with attention, now and here, for the health and the happiness of your child."  


Emma nodded, easily absorbing the skilled rhetoric of the man.  
Seeing she wasn't going to talk, the man went on.  
"In order to do this, you have the possibility to talk with the foster mother of the baby, who raised him during those months and who can inform you about his temper and about the tasks that his growth impose. I introduce you Mrs. Regina Mills"

And there she was forced to turn.  
By impulse, her eyes laid on the baby for a moment, like they were magnetically attracted to him, before darting to the woman's face.  
The foster mother of her son must have been young, even if a couple of years older than her, but her deportment made her look like she was so much older.  
She couldn't help noticing that she was beautiful, with a fine make up on her face, and elegant, in a white shirt and black trousers.  
She was probably the perfect mother and Emma would never be like her. She should probably just leave that baby in her arms, where he had been until then.  
She looked at her face, a plastic smile, and eyes between brilliant and sad at alternate times. She made her feel uncomfortable in some way, neither an easy nor frequent thing to happen to one like her.

The woman, with motion descending from a rigid education, reached out with her free hand and Emma hastened to shake it.  
"Hello." she said, but she didn't receive any answer.  
The man's voice intervened again between them.  
"You have the possibility of having an exchange talk, which will take place in this office for at most an hour. After this, you will have two possibilities: make a decision, whatever it might be, or, if you are still unsure..." he said looking at Emma, "...you can fix another appointment with the foster mother in the future and until then the baby will remain with her."  
Both of them nodded listening to him.  
"Moreover, Mrs. Regina Mills will have the right to express her own opinion, in the case she should notice something suspicious in your attitudes that could make her worry about the future safety of the baby that, even if not determining, will be taken in account based on its gravity. This is the practice, like you both can see, we all want just what's best for little Henry"  
He stayed silent, letting his words set in their minds. After a few seconds, he stood up.

"Now, I'll leave you alone, because a private conversation in front of me wouldn't be appropriate. If you should need anything, there is a bell that will call a guard immediately"  
He pointed to it, near the woman, and Emma smiled bitterly . The truth was that that one was an alarm ring, in the case in which she, as a former prisoner, would had tried to attack her, kidnap the baby and run away . She knew it too well and being reputed at such level made her feel like filth. She couldn't blame them, though.  
"We trust your reliability." he said to both, even if he seemed to be talking just to Emma.  
"Now, I think I've explained everything to you. Let's take all the time you need."  
They both nodded again while he smiled and went away.

When the door closed at his back and the silence remained ruling on the room lightened up by the last sun rays of the day, Emma felt like she had just lost the only support she had had until then, and she was forced to face reality.  
She turned slowly and roughed out a smile looking at the woman, her own distress bearing down on her chest.

"So, you're Henry's birthmother." she said.

"Hi"

At least she had said something. And Emma could tell that her voice was exactly like she had expected it to be, deep, grown and beautiful, like she was.

She kept on her smile, but it wasn't returned. The dark-haired woman just scanned her with her deep brown eyes, pursing her lips. And from what Emma could guess from her gaze, the impression she had gotten on her was all but positive.  
She decided eventually to speak, after another minute of embarrassing silence, taking a deep breath, almost dealing with the evidence of her presence.  
"So...Miss Swan, tell me..." she begun, almost skeptical," Which are your intentions?"  
That first question already startled her, but she decided to tell the truth. Maybe, she thought, if she had put trust in her, who seemed to be so practiced and at ease, she would succeed also in giving her a better impression of herself  
"I'm...I'm not sure, actually." she said.  
The woman closed her eyes for a moment  
"You are not sure... well, you should better be before our meeting ends."  
She pierced her with her gaze, sending a shiver down her spine.  
Emma didn't find what to say, so she waited for her to continue.  
"Miss, you chose to place the baby permanently until your release, which, as you surely know, would have impeded you from seeing him and breast feeding him in his first months, both primary things to the relationship that grows between mother and son. I get from this that you didn't want to take the responsibility..."  
Emma's gaze flicked; she didn't like feeling accused, at least not for the only thing she had been sure was right to do. She had known there were programs to keep seeing and feeding the baby, even if the mother was still in prison, but it had never felt right to her.  
"No, I didn't want to take the responsibility of letting him pass his first days of life in a prison. You wouldn't have done the same thing? Doesn't it seem cruel to you to keep a baby in a prison just for the mother's personal satisfaction ?"  
The woman nodded with her unchanged calm, "do not misunderstand me Miss Swan, I find it admirable of you. At least in this aspect, you had done the best choice. My aim, though, is just to make you to think over it. No one could ever blame you if you don't feel like taking this great responsibility. I mean, in all fairness, raising a baby is not an indifferent task. To do it, you need to measure up to it. "  
Now Emma understood that being honest has been the wrong choice. Her words and her tone, dyed with that oh-so familiar superiority still so hated by her, were starting to sting her more than she had believed was possible . But she forced herself to stay calm, always in the name of that good impression.  
"Are you saying I can't measure up to it? "  
She looked her up and down and then smiled with kindness dripping venom. At this point, Emma wouldn't be surprised to see her turn into a snake right before her eyes.  
"Miss, I'm just showing you things from an objective point of view. I'm just describing you what I see. And what I see is a young girl, scared, thrown in the middle of something bigger than her without even knowing it. I mean, a baby needs stability, certainty. You need to be ready and... honestly you don't look ready at all."  
Emma stared at her.  
"You were?"  
"Well, just to begin, I've never been in prison, which cannot be said for you"  
"I was been framed." she retorted, unable to hide the sourness.  
"Of course, who wouldn't say it..." the woman answered, letting her gaze wander through the room.  
Emma stood on her feet, "What the hell do you know about my life?!" she shouted, going against every part of her that was screaming she was heading in the wrong direction, that she was letting herself go with the flow of her emotions once again, too soon, too fast, when she should have known better.  
She felt tears of rage hurting her eyes, that became tears of emotion when she noticed that her high voice had woken up the baby that now was complaining, tightening to the woman's chest clenching his little fists.  
Hearing his sounds left her hanging in time once again; it calmed down her nerves drowning them in guilt and made her sit back down.  
The woman, Regina, sent her a murderous glance. It was the opposite of the sweetness she saw in her moves and in the murmuring of her lips while she tried to calm him down, rocking him slowly.

She kept on staring at them, letting the tears dry in her sockets and her breathing to return to normal.  
Maybe she was really wrong in taking him back with her. Maybe her fate was just to not be a mother.  
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to raise my voice..." she whispered.  
Regina gave her another murderous glance when she turned to her after calming down Henry, who went back to sleep quietly.  
"Let me understand," she returned to the attack, more intolerant than before, "what's your problem?  
Do you to such a degree want your baby back or it's just your pride feeling hurt? "  
"I..." Emma stuttered and stopped, thinking about the reasons behind her reaction.  
She was surely sick of being treated like that but...she never cared about it before. So many people had told her story wasn't true but...it had never affected her so much. Why now? Why did she care so much about being considered enough to be a mother?  
"You know? I think you should have asked yourself many questions _before_ coming here, because we have only an hour and honestly more than about Henry's attitudes, since he is a very quiet baby, we should talk about how it's important for him to be raised by a steady person." Regina said, with a firm voice, which didn't accepte any retorts, embracing more of the baby in an inappreciable move.  
Emma looked at her and settled herself better on the chair, taking a deep breath.  
"I came here because, despite not having expected it, he is my son, he is here, and I think he deserves to have a mother" she said.  
The woman smiled with sarcastic disbelief : "and this mother you are talking about should be you?"  
She stared at her.  
"Well, I just want to make you notice that, by now, you have no rights to define yourself as his mother. You may have given birth to him, but it has been _me_ feeding him, _me_ making him fall asleep, shooing his cries, and me changing his diapers. Until you start to take care of him, he will be _my son_!"  
Emma spread her arms speechless, feeling the rage bubbling up again inside of her.  
"I've been in prison, how should I do it? Still now, I'm here, trying to take on my responsibility, and you look to be against this too! You look so wanting to make me change my mind and still you speak like a victim. What do you want?"  
Regina stared at her. "You are saying _this_ to _me_? You who started by saying that 'you are not sure' about what you want to do, now look to be so against the idea of leaving him to me. Tell me, who is the self-contradictory one in here?"  
Emma sighed and lowered her gaze, realizing she was right. About everything. Still she couldn't accept it because it would have been like realizing the person she really was and didn't want to be anymore.  
She felt her heart break once again while her mind lost her balance.  
She barely looked up to the baby.  
"Do you love him?" she asked in a whisper.  
The dark-haired one looked almost stunned by her words and let out the breath she hasn't even noticed she was holding in the surge of rage.  
"Of course, I love him." she admitted, now with a lower and calmer voice, nailing her eyes to the baby.  
Emma looked at her for a brief moment  
"It's just..." she started whispering ,"Henry is...all I have left. I don't have anybody and I know it sounds miserable but... " she tried to smile faintly while shrugging, "...it's the truth. I have no other reason besides him to go on."  
She probably didn't even want to say those things, but they had just come up to her mouth and she had found herself unable to stop them.  
She just wanted her baby, that was all.

But weirdly, those words seemed to have gained the woman attention, because now she lifted her head and looked up at her.  
And it seemed like she was really seeing her for the first time, with a strange look in her eyes, a sort of passionless gaze lingering with a little sparkle.  
Then, she looked back at the baby and what she murmured astounded Emma totally.  
"Yeah, I know the feeling..."  
The woman didn't look at her again, reserving her full attention to the baby in her arms instead, while Emma was left in total and affected silence. She felt a lonely tears rushing down her cheek and she hurried to wipe it away with the back of her hand.  
When Regina spoke again, her voice was calm and sincere to Emma's surprise.  
"Listen, Henry is...a unique baby. Like probably every baby is but... he is special. Do not misunderstand me, he hasn't any problems, as far as I know. He is...in another way special. I don't know how to explain it better but...you'll notice it staying with him. And I just want the best for him."  
She looked up at her, "for this reason, I just want to be sure that...if you decide to take him with you, giving him a new house and a new family, you are completely sure about what you are doing. Because over whichever difficulty we have, he is the most important thing."  
Emma stared at her, feeling herself deeply touched by all the love that woman demonstrated she felt towards a baby who wasn't even hers by birth. It looked like the love she had always searched for herself as a child.  
And it was beautiful.  
"I...I'm scared." she confessed in the end, tearing away her gaze feeling deprived of courage.

Regina sighed and nodded.  


"I was too, at the beginning. Do you know why I registered for a foster list and not to an adoption one? Because I wasn't sure, before having Henry, if I would be capable of being a mother or not. I knew the risks of fostering and I knew that if I would measure up to the task I gave myself, and if I would grow fond of the baby, I would fear this moment. Still, I've put their growth in first place, I put myself to the test and..."  
;her gaze fell again on Henry while she spoke, and Emma thought she didn't seem about to turn into a venomous snake anymore, because she was smiling, like Emma didn't even believe she was capable of, with such a sweetness to be disarmingly.  
She didn't end the sentence. Instead, it looked like a thought had suddenly crossed her mind, followed right then by a faint and painful smile she gave to the blonde.

"Try to hold him."  
Emma was astounded.  
"What?"  
"Try to hold him. You will see...it changes everything, believe me. He is your son and you have the right to do it. Take him, you will see that right in that moment you will understand exactly what to do."  
Emma outlined a smile, under terrified eyes, and nodded slightly. The other one stood up and get closer to her, laying that little bundle of sweetness and tenderness down carefully between her arms.  
As soon as he didn't feel his mother's warmth anymore, he woke up, throwing open his big eyes right on the scared face that stared at him.  
And Emma felt like falling, looking straight in his son's eyes. She felt examined by him and she trembled again, because his was probably the most important judgment of all, even if he was just a few months old.  
She feared keeping him in her arms, so small and fragile, holding him too tight, or maybe too loose.  
And she feared more than anything else what she should be feeling.  
Didn't it have to be love? Overwhelming love that would make her understand in an instant she had to keep that baby forever?  
And yes, she was feeling it, she felt it mangling her heart at every single movement of the tiny hands and at every single expression of the little face, but she couldn't ignore the panic in which it was desperately wagging.  
And maybe it wasn't right. Maybe fear was not what she should have felt, but if she was feeling it then _she_ wasn't right. 

Regina still stood at her back. Emma felt her bowing behind her to get closer to the baby, but strangely it didn't disturb her . Not being alone facing it gave her a bit of relief from that devastating fear.  
Regina was smiling to the baby, caressing his head lightly.  
"The little prince is awake..." she whispered, her voice and all its toughness almost lost in the eyes of that little wonder.  
The baby made a little verse and from Emma's face, he passed to look in Regina's. On the tiny lips bore a little, spontaneous smile and Emma felt her heart blow up.

And in that moment, she understood, she understood she was ready to give everything , to sacrifice all of herself, in order to gain that same smile from him. She understood that just that will be enough to light up her days, to make her capable of doing anything, if she could just be good enough to deserve it.  
And she had all the intentions to be, to be something more than a lost girl, to mean something for the only person that maybe would ever truly love her.  
And yes, she was still scared, and she still didn't understand why, but she hadn't understood a lot of things in her life and if there was something in which she was finally sure, it was that she wanted to keep that baby.

_Her baby_. 

She noticed just then, among the loving whispers she heard coming from behind her shoulders directed to those smiles filled with pure joy, to which the baby replied with tender verses, she was crying.  
She was crying salty tears of love and happiness, because maybe, for the first time, she had really found her way, the one that would make her what she wanted to be, the one that would give her someone to walk through it with. The one that would lead her to happiness.  
She felt the tears running down her face but, careless of being seen, she looked up at the woman behind her.  


"I want to keep him"

She saw her smile fade away as fast as it had come, just to be replaced right after by another one, fake and empty.  
"Well." she just said, with a harsher voice than before.  
She took the baby back in her arms.  
"But it doesn't bother you if I keep him for now, does it?"  
Emma shook her head, still fighting to regain control on herself  
"Of course not. "  
Regina sighed, sitting down again.  
"I told you. Holding him changes everything." she whispered.  
Emma saw the void in her broken gaze.  
"Are you really sure?" she asked again.  
Emma nodded vigorously.  
"I am. Maybe I will never be a perfect mother like...like you, but...I'll do anything to be the mother he deserves."  
The woman looked surprised by her words, but she nodded anyway.  
"The important thing is that you love him, all the rest come second to it."   
Emma nodded and watched her stare at Henry, who looked visibly more comfortable in her arms, holding him almost desperately.  
"Thank you." Emma said after a bit, gaining her attention, "for helping me understand what I have to do. And for raising him so well. I'm sorry to...take him away from you"  
She saw her smiling with bitter irony.  
"It's only fair. You are his mother, and I knew it would end sooner or later. You made the right choice. Look at me, because of my insecurity, I'm losing what, in the last months, has been the dearest in the world to me."  
Then she abruptly looked away from Emma's sorry gaze, maybe regretting having told too much.

She took advantage of the silence to change the subject, teaching the younger woman the baby's habits and needs, and giving her advice she wished she had received when it had been her turn to face the same difficulties. Before they knew it, the door opened again.

The same man as before peeked inside with a half smile.  
"Ladies..." he closed the door behind him and came back to his seat , crossing his hands on the desk.  
"So, I suppose you made a decision..." he said, finding Emma more relaxed. He watched them both alternately, smiling, and Emma spoke first.  
"I want to keep my baby." she said, and she smiled with a new light in her eyes.  
The man's smile widened, and he nodded, "good."  
Then he looked at Regina.  
"And you, Mrs. Mills? What do you say about this?"  
Emma shuddered for a moment, hearing the hesitation in Regina's voice. Perhaps she would say she wasn't right, maybe she has only faked that...  
"I think she would be a great mother to him."  
She exhaled all in one, shielding herself again behind a plastic smile.  
Relief filled Emma's lungs, bringing her to reconsider that woman.  
"Very well then... I guess only a few pieces of paperwork are left to fill out."

The man started to extract some papers and put them in front of the two.  
They signed about ten papers, then, when the last drop of ink was spilled, not without a last breath of hesitation, the man gathered them together by him.

"Very well. So, Miss Swan, I'm glad to name you Henry's biological and legal mother. "  
Emma smiled, despite the weight of the responsibility those words put on her shoulders.  
She stood up, thanking and greeting him with warmth, and she was about to take the baby when she saw Regina's gaze. She was still cradling him, closer than ever, whispering her last goodbye words.

Emma called her: "Mrs. Mills..."  
She raised her gaze, a glaring fight in it to keep the tears at bay.  
"Tell me..." her voice broke, even if she struggled to hide it.  
Emma looked at the man.  
"I think it's fair to leave her some minutes alone with him."  
He nodded and the both of them left the room. She stayed outside waiting while he excuses himself with a last handshake, hurrying to reach other sectors in which his work was requested.

Ten minutes passed before Emma dared to open the door again. She hadn't the courage to enter though, interrupting the last goodbye between her son and that woman who clearly cared for him more than she had thought at first. So, it was Regina herself who made her enter, putting Henry in the stroller and passing her the responsibility of it. 

Her eyes were dry again, her expression tough.  
"Take care of him."  
Emma nodded taking the stroller.  
"I will. Thank you. I hope you will be a mother, if that is what you want."  
Honestly, she didn't know what to say.  
The woman hinted a bitter smile but did not answer. Emma was about to go towards the door when she felt her arm being grabbed.  
"Miss Swan!"  
She turned.  
"Yes?"

She saw her getting closer to the desk, picking a post-it from a small block right beside a bowl of apples, even without being allowed, to write something on it. When she put it in her hand, Emma understood it was a telephone number.  
"If you should need anything, if Henry should have problems or if you should have problems with him...do not hesitate to call. Please."

Emma looked her straight in the eyes, just like the other did, struck. Then, she clenched the paper and nodded.  
"I will"  
And after another glance she turned, trying to avoid those deep eyes, mirrors of a broken heart. She already knew she would feel guilty for that, and she feared she could change her mind again.

She took that corridor for the second time that day, but she exited the building high-headed, proud of the person she has just become, and safe from the one she was when she entered, that she never wanted to be again.

**\---**

_Present day, New York_

She was still lost among the pages and among the memories when she jumped hearing the door swing open. She didn't have the time to worry because soon Henry entered their living room.  
"Hi mom."  
She looked at him alienated.  
"Henry, shouldn't you be at school?"  
He left his backpack and turned, "it's two o'clock in the afternoon, mom; you know I don't stay in the afternoon at school on Friday."  
She glared at the clock, wondering how in the word it could be two o'clock in the afternoon, but that did nothing but confirm it. She swallowed. She must had gotten really lost in those memories, if so much time had passed without her even noticing it.  
"Mom, are you ok?" Henry asked seeing her strange reaction.  
"Yes...yes, sure" she stood up and quickly put the album aside. "I'm going to cook lunch, ok?"  
"Mhmh" Henry murmured, nodding and following her in the kitchen, starting to tell her all the strange things had happened to him that morning. But while cooking, Emma couldn't help but see again with her mind's eyes that picture of his first birthday, when he still barely talked, and a smile tugged at her lips. 

They passed the day together, and in the evening they sat on the couch ready to read some books or play some videogames, just like they were used to doing.

She had almost not thought about that album since Henry had come back home, enjoying those moments with him before they exhausted, ignoring the past like she had learnt to do by then. But, to her extreme regret, she soon noticed that it wouldn't be a night like all the others. In fact, it was one of those nights in which Henry wanted to ask questions. And when Henry started to ask questions, things got very bad.  
She knew he had the right to know , at least everything that was about his life, but there were many things she, maybe cowardly, preferred not to tell to him, things that maybe would have put unnecessary weights on his shoulders, heavy pieces of life, burdens which were hers and hers alone, that he didn't deserve.  
But the boy always succeeded in being very persuasive, bringing out of her, most of the times, so much more than she had wanted to share, and she always found herself unable to resist him.

Usually, however, the questions were about the same subject, even if Henry, out of his maturity, always asked them with delicacy and sensitivity, scared of hurting her: his father.  
And that evening hadn't been different. He liked to know as much as he can about him, even if they were not always positive things. He knew what he had done to his mother, how he had abandoned them, and for this he can't forgive him, but Emma could be very objective in her stories and she had described even some good aspects of Nea,l which had astounded him.  
He liked hearing her tell about their raids and he never missed the light that shined in his mother's eyes when she laughed about some memories with him. He especially could not forgive him because she had really loved him, Henry could see it, and he had left her broken to pieces.

When he asked her to talk about him that night, she rolled her eyes with a sigh.  
"Henry..."  
"Yes, I know, I already know everything I have to know about it, but..."  
Emma was trying to find a way out as soon as she could, when, suddenly, a face peeked into her mind.  
She looked at Henry.  
"Listen, what do you think about a telling? You like stories, don't you?"  
He glanced at her, confused.  
"A telling?"  
"Yes, a better one."  
He looked straight into her eyes just to nod with a little huff, recognizing her way to escape the conversation, but loving her too much to force her to talk about something that would have hurt her so much.  
"Ok."  
She sighed, relieved, and stood up in order to take, for the second time that day, that old photo album. She saw her son's eyes lighten up by curiosity.

"What is that?"  
"A photo album. Pictures from your first days of life."  
He seemed even more confused.  
"How did it survive the fire? I thought we lost everything..."  
She nodded.  
"We had, but I've always kept this in the bug in order to protect it."

She lied. The truth was that she had always hid it in there to avoid him seeing it and to avoid his questions. But maybe it was the time. Then again, talking about Regina didn't hurt as much as talking about Neal did, and not because she hadn't loved her as much, but because with her, she had known the true happiness, even if for a short period, and when it had faded away, it had been nobody's fault. Or perhaps a little bit of both. With Neal, instead, she had known an ephemeral happiness; she had mostly lived in the hope of a happy future with him, and it had been him who turned all those dreams to dust.

However, Henry looked to be satisfied with the explanation and didn't investigate further.  
"Why haven't you ever showed me it?"  
"Well, because...there is a story to tell about it, and I was waiting for you to be ready."  
"Mom..." he said, disappointed.  
"I know, Henry, I know, but...now, I'll tell you everything. I promise." She caressed his head.  
He sighed and nodded; his attention was captured just a moment later by the first picture in the album.  
Emma started to tell.

"You know I was in jail when you were born, and then I chose to keep you and to be your mother, but...I haven't always been your mother."  
He looked at her not understanding. "What do you mean?"  
"You see, when you were very young there was this woman..."

**\---**

_"Who are you?"_  
_"My name is Henry, I'm your son."_

_She fell in the dark._

_A thick darkness between whose barriers bounced distant echoes, restless, but yet, weirdly still._  
_It dissipated in a leaf brought by the wind, which laid on asphalt wetted by the first autumn rain._  
_Something snapped, releasing a sparkles' rain._  
_They became an house. Distant, white, in the silent numbness of a night out of time._  
_The face of her son when he was about ten years old was the only thing familiar to her gaze without eyes._  
_A sudden noise. She jolted, being run over by a ray of light so shiny that it dazzled her, making her capable of seeing nothing but colored gleams. They smashed her heart, staining it of red and grey._  
_She suddenly saw two eyes; the reflection of a tear kept back by a fake smile, which fell into amber fluid._  
_It overwhelmed her, it warmed her up, becoming flame, softness, then a bitter taste on the lips, sweet in the mouth._

_Again, that house; She saw it behind her, feeling her shoulders caressed by a gaze, maybe two, like they were hands._  
_A boost in the legs, to run away, one in her chest, to turn back._  
_She found herself following lights running away behind a glass, gathering, then, in the eyes of a wolf._  
_Fear clenched her soul._

_Then, in an instant, the darkness was on her again._

She opened her eyes wide in the dark, shuddering just remembering that dream. It has been so unreal but still vivid enough to make her feel it scratching her skin in grazes of nostalgic loss. It was still so clear in every detail in her mind's eyes.  
She calmed her breath and closed her eyes again, trying to recover the lost sleep.  
She fell asleep just a few seconds later, dreaming the deepest darkness.

The morning after, just a little of that was left.


	2. Her

Three years ago, Storybrooke

She had always hated towns of that kind: so small, so terribly hospitable, where everyone knew life, death and miracles of his neighbor. Even though she has been there just for a few days, she was sure that Storybrooke wasn't different from those. Moreover, she had already had the opportunity of seeing that everyone had their own specific reputation, that she doubted they had created themselves, but rather had been attached to them by their dear, fellow citizen.   
She had lived for some years in towns like this, she knew what it meant, especially for a girl like her, who always got involved in small thefts or get-away attempts; whatever she did was seen and told to the one who was responsible for her. No freedom, no hopes of evasion.   
That kind of place wasn't for her, she was sure about that.   
She could never bear feeling judged, and it looked like in that town, everybody did it. She didn't even dare imagine what was said behind her back: the repented, former-prisoner, mother who came back to take her son only after ten years.   
She could have destroyed everything just thinking about it, as much as it got on her nerves.  
But, weirdly enough, at least apparently no one had pushed her away.   
They all looked like they had it in for that mayor...that Ms. Mills who had raised her son in the last...well, for all his life.   
And it looked like they didn't care about who she was, provided that she was against that woman.   
Emma thought it had to be terrible for her.   
She saw how people looked at her when she crossed the streets or entered that diner, Granny's, which looked to be the gathering of the whole community. It mustn't be easy to be in charge of all those people, to fight for every decision just because it had been her who made it.   
Still, she couldn't blame them. 

One day had been enough for her to understand how insufferable that woman could be, how deceptive, with her oh-so terribly breathtaking appearance, and that snake-like smile, which stilled venom, that only waited for the right moment to strike.   
But there was something in her that Emma hated above all because she knew she really admired it, secretly, and it was that calm and that imperturbability which impregnated her every move.   
That winner-like attitude, at any time and in any circumstance, which made a winner of her, at any time and in any circumstance, even when she was not.   
She was not evil, that wasn't evilness. She had tried to explain that to Henry, even if she could easily understand how it must be difficult for him, especially living under the community's expectations, which classified him as "the mayor's son".  
That wasn't true evilness. True evilness was in leaving one's newborn daughter at the roadside, true evilness was harming a little girl just because she cried asking for love. And over everything else, she was damn sure that that woman hadn't done any of those things, judging by how protective she was toward her son.   
No, she wasn't evil, she just...feared to be defeated.   
Of course, there must have been reasons why those people hated her so much, why they were scared by her, but, in her own opinion, the truth was that she couldn't afford defeat because of those reasons themselves.   
If one like her, a stranger come from Goddess knows where, runaway mother and former prisoner for Goddess knows what crime, in denim and leather, had defeated her, then everyone would have thought to be able to do it.   
She couldn't say she didn't understand it.   
But, despite all of this, she couldn't help but fight back those attempts of destroying her of hers.   
To challenge her was a game, to attack her, also physically, destroying her apple tree, a madness. Regina was more powerful than her and she knew the risk. She did not want to go back to prison, still she couldn't resist that call, that gust of wind from the depths of the chasm on which border she walked, which gave her shivers of excitement, which pushed her to risk everything.   
But she knew that, in some ways, Regina was letting her do it, because if she had wanted, she could use her son as a means to push her off.   
After all, she had no legal rights to him, having given him away in closed adoption.   
So, she had wondered why she was still permitting her to annoy and challenge her in such a way. But she maybe already had her answer when she had crossed her gaze under that tree partly lying at her feet.   
She had openly challenged her then, showing her she wasn't scared by her like everybody else was, and that she was able to challenge her because she herself was different.   
She had seen flames in her irises and in her grinded teethes, flames which gave her amazing beauty that savage look, which made her even more attracting when she had brutally ripped away her belief that she was able to easily get rid of her, like she did with everyone else.   
And in that flame, she had read hunger of glory, as she tried to subject Emma to her power, because no one could ever escape it, and to show her how that refined and bewitching style could become terrifying, as a panther ready to attack under a mantle of black elegance.   
She wanted to show her that she would have won all the same, with good or bad manners, despite Emma had heightened herself to the point of challenging her.   
And Emma had welcomed that challenge with the same fire, with the same passion.   
Yes, maybe she would lose when Regina would become sick of that game and would decide to put an end to it with her heaviest move, but until then, she would employ every part of herself to win that conflict, to deprive her of that maddening, more-than-high self-esteem, which brought her to consider everybody else nothing more than mere puppets.   
She would show her what she was capable of.   
And she wasn't ashamed of being attracted to that venomous beauty that got her to stare in enchantment every time she had the possibility, because it was all part of the game. That was her enemy's secret weapon. And she knew that, no matter how effective ( more than once a look of hers in the right direction and of the right depths had been enough to shush her), that same consciousness could have been enough to destroy her: Emma would not be inhibited by surprise anymore.  
If Regina had no limits, Emma would not have them too.   
She would play the game, but she would also take the reins on it. Or at least she would try to. 

And she was having so much fun playing with her and taking advantage of all that was to be gained, little moments with her son, Henry.   
He was an extraordinary boy, if she hadn't known it, she would have never said he could be her son.   
He was smart, mature... yes, all that fairytales thing suggested quite the contrary but, as his psychologist had said, it was just a defense system. She knew it and she understood it. Who didn't have one, after all? And his was pretty original too, she had to admit, and permitted her to stay with him more than she had ever imagined she could.   
And with him, she forgot everything. For him, she felt she could risk it all.   
For this reason, she had rarely stopped to think about where all of that would bring her and to ask what really were her intentions. Because she knew that situation couldn't last forever, and she knew herself enough to know that she wasn't going to stay in that town for long, it was too familiar to the one who lived in it, and Emma didn't know absolutely anything about family. She would feel like an intruder in someone else's house, like it had always been in her childhood, and she wouldn't take that position again.  
Moreover, she hadn't worked in a while and her money would soon be exhausted.   
It was because of that, that she had accepted the job as deputy that had been proposed to her. If she wanted to stay there at least for a little bit longer, she needed a stable position, a house that wasn't always the one of the kind Miss Blanchard, in which she was once again a stranger, and a role that wouldn't give Regina Mills good reasons to kick her out.   
Yet, from time to time, she wondered what her aim was of staying. Inside, she knew she would lose in the end, and after all she didn't even want to win. Come on, she as a mother of a ten year-old child? Absolutely impossible. 

So, she didn't intend to win, and she didn't intend to lose, and while she enjoyed playing with Regina Mills, she grew more and more fond of that rebel child who, in some ways, reminded her so much of herself.   
And this worsened the situation, because in the moment when that woman would kick her out of the life of her son and from her town, she would remain with nothing, but an old heart repaired just to be broken again.   
But she used to close her eyes and stop thinking about it. Then, when she opened them again, she saw her son and decided to stay one more day, just one, just to be sure that he was alright, that everything was alright. Just another challenge to that woman, for her presence to leave the sign, like a shadow behind her son's shoulders, protecting him from her and from what was not to be afraid of.  
And maybe she didn't have the power, but, as an excuse, it could be enough.

\---  
Present day, New York

She was torn away from that numbness of fading memories and indistinct voices by the beep of the alarm clock that, on time like every morning, made 8:15 am the most hated time of the day.   
Anyway, that time, it wasn't so displeasing. Her sleep had been strange, restless and tiring, and when she woke up, it seemed to her almost as though she could take a sigh of relief.   
She had dreamed all night long, she didn't remember exactly what, just a few fragments were left, but it had been one of those dreams that seems so real to make you nostalgic about it at the awakening.   
Yet, the numbness could be good while being wrapped in it, but in the cruel reality, it became just a stifling cloud of vague memories, which remained to impregnate and weight down the head.   
There was silence in the house, Henry was surely still asleep, so she got up, reaching the kitchen as the first destination of the day.

She calmly cooked breakfast, starting to hear the first noises coming from her son's room, waiting for his arrival with a smile of anticipation on her face, over the always present town's buzz coming from outside the walls, that she was more than used to.   
Henry reached her just a few minutes later, smacking a kiss on her cheek before dedicating himself to his beloved plants, before setting the table and sitting down waiting for his eggs and his bread with jam.  
Soon he got them, with a dim gurgling of his stomach, caused by the delicious smell of the plate set on the table, along the mug of hot chocolate with whipped cream. He eyed it, noticing something different from usual at first sight.   
"Mom, you forgot something"  
She, caught off guard, still slightly sleepy, stared at him for a moment before realizing.   
"Right, cinnamon!" she went to get the cinnamon container, wondering how she could have forgotten it.  
"Here you go!" she exclaimed, putting it beside him.   
Breakfast was one of her favorite moments with her son. After all, it has been one of the first things they could do together, and maybe even the only one during some of their worst periods.   
She looked at him for a moment, while he ate with taste as ever: she was happy about how he had dealt with the story of Regina and their past together she had told him some days before, showing as ever to be very mature, as it wasn't so common among his peers.  
She hadn't wanted to tell him before, as she feared that that same loss she felt looming over her chest every time she thought about their past, would loom over his chest too, leaving his heart emptied by an unachievable desire that for his whole life would remain there, as ungratified curiosity and slight faded hope of knowing Regina and, unconsciously, of having her back.   
She knew that feeling well; it was the same she had always felt towards her parents, the ones who had left her as a newborn on the roadside.   
She had always wanted to know them, she had hated them more than anyone else, and still, in the depth of her heart, she had always wanted to have them back, willing to forgive them just so she wouldn't have been alone anymore. She hadn't wanted the same for her son. But he was different from her, he had grown differently.   
Even if she hadn't always been able to give him all he asked, she had never let him miss love; she was more than sure about this.   
And then, even if that loss would leave a void in his heart, then...well, she thought he was grown up enough to be able to endure it.   
After all, the prize of consciousness always is a little bit of pain.   
She smiled and cheered with him, inside her, she cheered to him, like she was used to, and to the joy renewed every day in that moment. 

But that time a firm knocking at the door interrupted their moment of shared happiness.  
"Someone coming over?" Henry asked, not as confused as she was.  
"No..." she returned to drink her hot chocolate, sure that she could avoid the nuisance, but it seemed to insist, knocking again.  
She sighed, disturbed, "Henry, wait here."  
She reached the door and opened it, keeping herself ready to close it right after, though. But what she saw left her perplexed.  
There was a man on the other side of the door, in black leather clothes, which looked like they came from a piratical fashion from centuries before.   
"Swan, at last!" the strange figure exclaimed trying to enter her house; but she stopped him instantly.  
"Whoa! Do I know you?"  
She saw him sighing, like arming himself of patience, as though he knew he would run into a similar rejection.  
"Look, I need your help. Something's happened. Something terrible. Your family is in trouble."  
She eyed him suspiciously, "My family's right here. Who are you?"   
"An old friend. I know you can't remember me, but I can make you."   
And there she was left aghast and totally disturbed seeing him getting dangerously closer to kiss her, before she had even the chance to understand what was happening.  
She reacted instinctively, kicking him in his southern part and pushing him out.  
"What the hell are you doing?!"  
And she wondered why she was still there talking with him when she should have already closed the door and called the police. But there was something weird about him, a sort of sinister ringing in her brain, a sort of scent of past which wafted around him and which...reminded her something, someone, even if she couldn't say who.  
"A long shot." he recognized, "I had to try. I was hoping you felt as I did."   
But maybe he reminded her just of the madness of some managers in her foster homes, nothing more.  
"All you are going to feel are the handcuffs when I call the cops."  
Yet he didn't look like discouraged, not even in front of that treat. Instead, he kept trying to give her an absurd explanation for that absurd behavior of his.  
"Look, I know this seems crazy, but you have to listen to me. You have to... "  
And at that point, she felt really tired, because already mentioning her family, he had been on the verge of craziness, and she had had already enough madmen in her life to not be able to recognize them.  
She wouldn't put her son at risk.  
She closed the door like she should have done long before. She clicked the bolt and returned to Henry.   
"Who was that?"   
She allowed herself to take a breath before answering him, deciding to leave him out of that disturbing madness.  
"No idea. Someone must've left the door open downstairs. Come on, let's eat." 

Despite doing everything to ignore what had happened and the feeling of discomfort, which had remained glued to her skin since that man had tried to kiss her, she discovered that all her attempts had been useless when she jumped just hearing the doorbell ring. She swallowed, ignoring that shiver, not of fear but of discomfort, which ran through her spine, and went to open the door with a sharp gesture and an hard expression on her features, just to find one of her son's friend on the other side of the door.  
She was a pretty girl with long brown hair, as her big eyes (a little naive for her age, in her opinion), that she had already seen before, but whom she knew not much about, other than her name being Violet, and the interest her son showed toward her.  
She swallowed again, trying to shrug off a bit of that aggressiveness that was left on her face and forced a smile  
"Hi Violet. I'll call Henry."   
She nodded. "Thank you, Mrs. Swan."   
She called her son, who was probably hiding behind the next wall, judging on the speed at which he arrived. She gave him a sideways look but didn't comment, limiting herself to greeting him and letting him go.  
"Have fun."   
She watched them take the stairs and closed the door, supporting herself on it right after. She emitted a sigh. Maybe staying at home alone would help her get free of that accumulated pressure.   
-What if that madman is still here, outside the entrance door, waiting for me or for Henry to go out?- she involuntary wondered.   
She ran to the window from which she could see the entrance door and waited, with a hand ready on her mobile phone, to see them exit the building. When they walked undisturbed along the avenue, she exhaled another sigh of relief, staying however to watch them until they went out of sight.   
She reached the kitchen and poured herself a glass of Whiskey. She knew it was still eleven, and surely alcohol at that hour would do nothing good for her, but she also knew that she needed it.   
She abandoned her body on the couch, slowly consuming her drink. 

Henry was growing up, she saw him, day after day. He already started being interested in girls, maybe (who knew?), even falling in love with them, and she was happy about this; she was happy to see him growing up safe and happy. Still...it hurt her.   
He was all the family she had, without him... she would be alone again.   
She drowned her umpteenth sigh in the alcohol. It was early, really too early to think about that.  
Suddenly, the words said by that strange one who presented at her door that morning came back to her mind:  
-Your family is in trouble-   
She shot her eyes closed tight forcing herself to not think about it, to silence the voices overlapping in her head.   
He was just a madman, he could not know about them, he could not harm them.  
But everything was possible, she had learnt it well in the almost ten years she lived on the street.  
If he was talking seriously...then who he was? If he had wanted to hurt them, then why warn her first?  
No, it didn't make sense.   
And then that dress, trying to kiss her...just a madman would had tried to do those things without even knowing her. 

She held her forehead, feeling her nerves stretched to their limit.  
It was in that moment that a fragment of the night's dream appeared behind her closed eyelids. It showed her a familiar face, a body wrapped in elegant grey fabrics.   
"Regina..." she whispered, and she couldn't help but notice once again how that name slipped between her parted lips, light as a breath of air, how in an instant, it was able to calm down her mind, flooding her ears with that whispered infinity.   
She opened her eyes with a renewed intention casted in her moves, in the way in which she stood up and, before even knowing it, she reached the bookshelves.   
She knew what she was doing was wrong; she knew it.   
Her mind was telling her that again and again, so many times that just an idiot wouldn't have listened to it, but...well, maybe she was an idiot because in that moment, she couldn't ask herself any questions.  
She grabbed the album lately took so many times and held it in her hands for a second, before going back to the couch with it.   
She didn't know exactly how to explain it, but having told everything to her son made her feel like she had closed a door between her and all of that past, and at the same time, like she had opened another one, in order to let it fill her world and sediment there, in the resilient substratum which was her mind's boundaries, creating the person she was every day.   
By then, those memories were part of her, and they couldn't make her suffer anymore, could they?  
It would not hurt her to remember a little bit more of that familiar warmth that she would not feel anymore, one time again, just once, now that she needed someone to tell her that everything would be alright, that she was doing everything for her son, that she really was what he needed.   
Like she would have done. 

She opened her eyes and closed her mind, in a tired yellowish sigh. 

\---  
Thirteen years ago, Phoenix

She remembered that bar in which she went most of her mornings before going to work.  
It was nice, with its light blue sofas near the windows covered by venetian blind, its exiguous but affable staff who nimbly moved among the tables on the tune of an old radio success spread in the air by the small jukebox in the corner, and with the smell of fried eggs that was enough to arouse the hunger of the most reluctant customer.  
A classic American diner, which had become part of her life by chance.  
In fact, there wasn't a particular reason why she always chose it, actually she didn't even need breakfast, but many times the early morning gas didn't work in the building they lived in, so she was forced to go there in order to provide Henry something warm to drink. And she couldn't let him go without breakfast, especially when that was one of the few moments of the day which they could spend together.   
In fact, almost every morning, she brought him to an old lady who kept him with her until afternoon or, sometimes, until evening. Leaving him broke her heart every time, but although she was trying her best to do everything in order to improve his life, that was an aspect that she could do nothing about.  
She had to work; she had to be able to buy them a house where the gas would never turn off; she had to be able to buy him toys, books, when he would be old enough, and everything he would ask for.   
She could do it, but there was that little price to pay.   
Luckily enough, she had found this woman everybody in the neighborhood knew and, despite her fear the first days, she had started to trust her enough to let her had Henry without too many worries bubbling inat her mind while she was at work.  
The bar was pretty close to the old woman's house and with the time she had started to like its cozy atmosphere, if not as a home, then as a secure island in the chaotic world which surrounded her.   
And everything would be alright, she would succeed in her economical aim and would gift her son with the life he deserved.

But, as far as she continued to say it to herself, there was something which kept on torturing her mind, a single big doubt, which alone surmounted all other certainties she had.   
Of course, maybe she would succeed in it, but how could she be sure that every hour passed far from that baby wasn't departing her more and more from him, in a way that would have been irreparable?   
Why still, to fall asleep, the baby must have been at the end of his rope? Why couldn't he calm down instead, rocked by the strong arms and the sweet words of his mother? He seemed to be almost deaf to them, he seemed to live his life yes, with her, but not close to her.   
Why? She couldn't help asking herself.   
Where did she go wrong?   
What was wrong in the way in which she was rocking him right now, in order to stop his crying, caressing his damp forehead and laying her lips there from time to time?   
He had been crying since they left home, since she had deprived him of the blanket with his name embroidered on it, a gift from the one who had been his mother. That thing seemed to have a calming effect on him, it made him go asleep instantaneously, but it was too cumbersome to be brought with them when they went out.   
And then, he couldn't be crying for a blanket!  
"What's wrong with you, love, mh?"   
she asked for the umpteenth time with a broken voice, on the verge of tears, sat at that table, in the bar, drowning in the big tears on the small face, which mangled her heart.   
She had that feeling of uselessness on her skin since days.   
"Please, baby, give me a chance!" she whispered embracing him, indifferent to the occasional curious and sometimes annoyed gazes of the other customers.  
It would have been easier to give him up to the babysitter, to run from her responsibility without looking back, but that was not what she intended to do. She couldn't leave him like this, she just couldn't...

"Miss Swan, right?" a voice from her right made her suddenly wince. It was cold and slightly trembling, but she recognized it at once, she couldn't avoid it. It belonged to someone she had known just a month before, and for a short time, but who she had been sure since then she would never forget: her son's foster mother, Regina Mills.   
When she turned to look at her, she was sure she had missed some tones from her skin. Discomfort flooded inside her, while she felt like she has been caught red-handed in her incapacity of being a mother.  
She didn't want to be seen like this, not from her.   
She hurried to dry her eyes and to put on the most calm and adult expression of her poor inventory, forcing a polite smile.  
"Ms. Mills... it's a pleasure to see you"   
The smile reflected, in all its fakeness, on the other woman's face, who looked almost incapable of tearing her eyes away from the baby in her arms, answering by granting her just short glances.   
"It's for me too..."  
They stayed silent, while Emma kept on rocking him frenetically in the desperate attempt to calm him down and to save herself.   
"What's wrong with him?" the woman asked after a bit, and it seemed to Emma like she was grieved by that cry, despite trying to hide it. She felt like a terrible being, a terrible mother.   
"I don't...I don't know, he has been crying since we left home and I can't soothe him, I don't know how..."   
her words faded with her resolution, declaring her inability.   
Regina seemed to think over it for a bit, and slightly cleared her throat then.  
"Can I...?" she started to ask, hesitant.   
Emma rose her gaze on her, wavering for a second, but that was enough to her to decide, because something in her knew that that was exactly the solution she had been searching for.   
She nodded, accepting her defeat, and made her space near them on the sofa, gently passing her Henry as soon as she sat.   
And just a few seconds between the soft arms of the woman, just a few breaths of her scent, were enough to slowly soothe that cry in occasional sobs.  
And Emma froze there, watching them. Scared, sad, deluded and angry, but above all enchanted.   
Her son had opened his big brown eyes, shining by tears, and was looking at that woman. He watched her like she was everything, like nothing existed in the whole universe besides her.   
And she looked at him too, in the same way, with a sweet smile, which opened her personality into a hidden, and reserved only for him, dimension where they would always find each other and where they would always belong to each other, as long as he had the key to reach it.   
The baby smiled, tripling the smile on Regina's face. And there Emma really watched her for the first time.   
She saw in her smile and in her eyes a light, which was brightening her entirely, showing Emma and the whole world her beauty.  
Because Regina Mills was a very beautiful woman, even if Emma really noticed it only then.   
Her hair merely fell back on her shoulder, in soft and tidy waves of a dark sea, the eyes, of the same color as her son's, reflected the light of a love, which was not common and that no one had ever reserved or orientated towards her.   
Lost in the unreality of that moment, she came to think that anyone who was reached by that light must considered lucky; who had so much power as to be able to arouse her love, like her son did.   
She felt the need to say something, even if neither the baby nor the woman were giving her any attention.   
"I...thank you. Thank you so much" she smiled sadly, helpless to avoid, despite the wonder, that clamp of tears next to falling, which tightened her chest.   
"You were right..." she told her in a whisper "...maybe you are his true mother."   
And just at those words and at the pain which soaked their every letter, Regina came to herself.   
She didn't smile, she looked for long at her instead, and for a moment Emma thought she was seeing a flash of compassion in her eyes, which was at once replaced with a desperate determination.   
"No" she said, leaving her astounded. "He is your son."   
She looked at Henry one last time before putting him again in her arms, leaving Emma with no words at all.   
She had never expected she would give up like this, not from her.  
"Take him. Spend some time with him, as much as you can. It isn't easy but... he will get used to it."   
Emma nodded, hoping with all her strength he would not start again to cry in her arms, but the recent cry must had left him so tired that now he was on the verge of sleep.   
She held him close and lowered her gaze, feeling guilty at the woman's words.  
"Actually, I'm going to leave him with the babysitter. Believe me, I don't want to do it, but I have to. I have to work. For him."   
She looked up at her, sure to find disappointment in her eyes, and she was more than surprised when she found there was nothing more than pure understanding.  
"I know it. I won't judge you for this."   
She sketched a thankful smile, looking down again to the baby completely asleep by then. Then she heard her voice calling her back again.  
"But...I guess it costs...the babysitter, I mean."   
Emma sighed. "Yeah... I count it among the necessary expenses."   
The dark-haired nodded, stepping back in her silence.  
And the both of them should have gone away, but neither of them knew how to do it, or which words to use to excuse herself.   
"I could...take him with me for today, if it's ok for you."  
Emma looked marveled at her, seeing her suddenly covered by all the uncertainty of her true young age.  
"Of course, I won't ask for money." she went on, " Like you can imagine...it can be nothing but a pleasure for me."  
Of course, a pleasure -Emma thought- she had no doubts about it, but...how would she leave her at the end of that day? How would she deprive her again of what she now clearly saw was her treasure?   
"No, I... don't feel like you have to do it, please. I mean, I can do it; I earn enough money. I suppose you have something to do today. I don't mean to stuck you all day long to..."   
But she didn't let her finish."I have nothing to do today."   
Emma stayed quiet, not knowing how to retort. She couldn't deny that knowing he was with her would make her feel better, with less worries. Still...  
"Are you sure? I wouldn't..."   
"I don't want you to think I want to take him away from you, so...I will not insist. But I've already told you, if he needs me, whenever and wherever, I'll be there."   
Emma truly smiled at that declaration and then looked at Henry.  
"Perhaps...just for today, in the case he is sick and cries again, I wouldn't want strangers to soothe him, you know.."  
And then, Regina smiled, suddenly filled up by a joy she wasn't able to contain, and which for a moment lightened Emma's soul from part of her guilty feelings of being absent, of having taken her son away from someone who was able to make him feel good, just to search for shelter in that same someone cause to her unavoidable cowardice.  
"It's more than alright with me." Regina said, and the clouds made space to a providential ray of light which enlightened them and Henry, as Emma's day was filled by a peace she had probably never had before. 

Emma left her telephone number and went away with her heart at peace, for once, with no worries for her baby's safety and with the happiness of having made, in some ways, her son and also that woman happy by giving them some time together.  
As hurting as that could be. 

Some weeks later...

She shot her eyes open at the umpteenth scream, and even if it seemed to her that they had been closed for no more than a few seconds, she really hoped , looking at the alarm clock on her nightstand, to be already over that endless night.   
But, as always, the more one desires that time passes quickly, the more it goes slowly.   
It was still three a.m. Only three a.m. There were still around four hours to pass before the sun rose and brought away that terrible night. Not that the thought of the following morning could hearten her much, since she would have to go to work and her son would end up with a stranger again. He was teething for the first time, and since the previous evening, he had stopped crying only when he had been too tired to do it, getting asleep just to wake up starting again from hour to hour.  
And Emma was a wreck.   
She had come back from the mall with cold shivers that evening, and it hadn't taken long to her to realize she had a strong fever, which had done nothing but rise through the night, while every scream of her baby resounded in her head, making her feel like it was about to explode.

She gritted her teeth and took a deep breath, trying to ignore the stitches in her head and body, which assaulted her as soon as she tried to get up. Somehow, she managed to do it, and reached the cot, taking Henry in her arms again, trying to tighten him to her chest without getting him too close though, fearful of infecting him. Having him with fever too really was the last thing she needed.   
"Ssh, everything is alright, love, I know it hurts, but...hey! Mom is here, ok? She is here with you..." she held her breath and tried to kiss his forehead. It calmed him down for a seconde before letting him explode in another scream.   
Those were exactly the moments in which Emma became sure she could not do that.   
Just...she couldn't. It was too much for her. She was no one to comfort a so sweet and pure soul, a so small body... still, she couldn't admit she had done wrong in taking him with her, taking him away from that woman because, despite everything, he was still the best thing that had ever happened to her.  
She herself was the problem. 

She felt tears running on her cheeks, for the way she was feeling, for her inadequacy, for her life itself, but more, probably, for the desperation, which she felt she was drowning in and from which she didn't see any way out.   
So, she started to sing. At least she tried, with her voice broken by tears and by that knot she could feel inside her throat and her soul.   
She sung an old song, something about the moon and a baby she had learnt when she was a child, hoping it could bring peace to the both of them, and for a moment, almost a miracle happened: Henry stopped crying and looked at her, with those deep eyes full of tears, and it seemed to her, even if maybe it was just an illusion, that he was smiling lightly for the first time. She smiled too, feeling on the verge of delirium, but happy for that infinitesimal gesture.  
However, the created atmosphere broke a moment later, in another access of cry so strong to tarnish her view and to make her fear that she would faint with him in her arms.  
She quickly sat down and took a breath.   
"Mom is here, Henry...mom..." her weak voice went out in a thought that quickly passed through all of what was left still working in her brain. She looked at the nightstand and took her telephone from it, holding Henry with an arm. She scrolled through her contacts until coming to one of the names at the end of the list.  
Regina Mills.  
Mom could really be there. She would know how to do it. She would soothe him, and then everything would have been alright.   
She looked again at the alarm clock; it was ten past three a.m.. How could she call her at that time?   
Whenever and wherever, right?   
After all, it had been her to say to call her in whatever moments she needed, and Emma doubted that there could be a more impelling need than that.   
And after all, she didn't care, she thought while sending the call, if it could make her baby feel better.  
They were nothing compared to him.   
The phone rang and rang, two, three, four times, and Emma came to think that she would never answer, after all, why should she, in the middle of the night?  
But at the fifth ring, a sleepy voice answered her.  
"Miss Swan?"  
And suddenly she didn't know what to say anymore.  
"I...I'm sorry to bother you at this late hour but..."  
"It's Henry ok?" she asked with a suddenly shrill voice   
"Yes, yes he...he is teething and he cries because his gums hurt, he always cries and... I can't make him stop. And I have a fever and I don't want to infect him, but..."   
She knew she was babbling incoherent words, damn, she didn't even know what she was trying to say, but...then she looked at Henry, red in the face, in her arms, and she decided to collect all the lucidity she still had, throwing away her useless pride.  
"Listen, I know it could seem wrong, impolite or even absurd and selfish but... I really...I really need you. Henry needs you. Please."  
For a few seconds, she heard just silence at the other side, and tried to rock Henry as best she could, who was starting to cry again. However, at the sound of his first screams, the woman answered,  
"I'm coming." 

Regina came to her house about half an hour after. Not as perfectly dressed as always and without make-up, it seemed strange to Emma to see her like this. She was beautiful all the same, this was sure, she didn't think she needed make-up at all to be beautiful, but...she seemed almost defenseless , in some way, almost as she had left a part of her uncovered. Emma stared at her outside the door, dazed, until she saw the door of the next apartment open wide. An old woman came out of it, with a pink nightgown and a ridiculous night mask which made Emma want to laugh, between the tragedy and the delirious of the fever.   
The woman eyed them both and then fixed her sharp grey gaze on her.   
"Listen, little girl, first you keep us awake the whole night with that snotty kid's cry, now you invite over people. It's almost four a.m., does this looks like the right way to act to you?"   
Emma didn't answer. She didn't have the strength to do it. They had accused her of the noise so many times since she got Henry that she didn't care anymore.  
But something happened she hadn't expected.   
Regina, motionless staring at the woman, changed expression , became almost...angry, yes, angry.  
She pointed a finger at her.   
"Listen, Ms., have you ever had a child? Don't you know what it means to stay awake all night trying to soothe him when he has a pain or another discomfort, knowing to have to get up soon, the morning after, to work in order to feed him? Don't you know it? Or don't you remember it? Maybe your husband has always provided things for you and you had never had to do anything by yourself, but things aren't like this anymore. Some women are alone, with children to rise, and they have to go on as they can. So, we are sorry for the "noise", but now please, do me a favor: go back in your house and be patient, because the "snotty kid" in that house is also my son, and I don't think anyone had silenced you at his age."  
She pushed an eyes-and-mouth-open-wide Emma inside the house and entered after her, closing the door at her back. She looked at her harshly, and Emma felt surprise making space to fear, as she became afraid that the rage in her eyes was going to be directed towards her too.  
"Where is he?" the woman just asked.  
It took her still another moment to come to her senses, to then go towards the bedroom, motioning for her to come along. She watched Regina reach her, looking around her a little uncomfortable and, she would have said, slightly disgusted, before laying her eyes on her baby in the cot.  
"I've managed to settle him down some time ago but...he wakes up almost at every hour and..." she lowered her gaze, feeling suddenly ashamed, keeping her voice low when she spoke. "I'm sorry I...maybe I shouldn't have called you, I'm sorry..."   
But she heard no answer coming from her, and when she looked at her again, she saw her smiling lightly, her gaze lost on that little crouched figure asleep. Only after some time, Regina rose her gaze, now weirdly sweet, on her.  
"You've done the right thing; you don't have to worry. You look very tired."   
Then, suddenly she laid her cold hand on her forehead. Emma shivered, tearing away her gaze.  
"Moreover, you're very hot. Lay down and try to sleep, I'll take care of him. There is an armchair in the living room?"   
Yes...yes, there was an armchair in the living-dining-kitchen-room of her small apartment. Emma didn't even know how, when they merely hosted a table with four wooden chairs and a couch. They had even a couch! That was an amazing thing.  
Anyway...she was rambling and she knew it. The fever was once again taking hold of her. The woman was right, she needed to lay down. No "but".  
She nodded, shaking herself up at least for another couple of minutes, and saw her strangely smiling with gentleness and sincerity .  
"Good." she got close to the cot and softly took the baby in her arms, laying him on her shoulder.   
"Thank you. Also, for...before. I really don't know what to say."   
She shook her head, continuing to smile.  
"There is no need for that, really. Now get to sleep"   
Emma smiled to her too, just to remain staring at them going away, in that "living room", if it could be called that.  
How much she was needing that bed...

She must have fallen in a deep and dreamless sleep as soon as she had laid her head on the pillow, because when the alarm clock rang, at seven o'clock the morning after, she didn't remember anything more than the silhouette of that woman, Regina, who taken her son away to make him finally feel good.   
She got up, carefully, remindful of the stitches, which had afflicted her the night before. Even if still there, they had soothed a bit after those three sleep hours. It wasn't much, but to start a working day, it could be enough.   
She washed and dressed herself quickly, having to be at work at eight a.m., and as soon as she was ready, she took a deep breath and she went to the next room. But when she got to the door, she stopped.  
And accidentally smiled.   
Regina was sitting on the armchair, asleep with her head lying on the backrest. On her chest, she had a deeply asleep Henry, with a very tender expression on his face and his small fists tightened to the woman's shirt.   
He must have been very tired, maybe they both have been. She didn't know how the night had gone after she had fallen asleep, for once, without the worry that her son would be in distress.   
And yes, he was her son, sleeping on another woman's chest, but in that moment she couldn't help but smile even more, feeling without any worries in front of that portrait of tenderness.   
She got closer silently and watched at them. She didn't know how that image could bring so much peace in her heart but...it did.   
Her eyes caressed her baby's back, moved by his faint breath, rising, then to the woman's face.   
She was beautiful, no other word came to her mind. She seemed so genuine, asleep with a baby in her arms, so free from that shield of perfection, which usually made her a distant and unreachable person. Emma couldn't do anything but feeling privileged, yes, privileged, that she was able to see her like that.  
She stopped to study her features, forgetful of the time which ran behind her back: they were sharp but weirdly sweet at the same time. She had long eyelashes, brown as her hair, that gently fell on her face, covering part of it, and that looked so soft. For a moment, she felt the irrational desire to sink her fingers in them; she had harmoniously colored cheeks, even without make-up, and perfectly drawn lips, except a vertical scar on her upper lip, which abruptly broke the line. She couldn't help wondering how she had got it, but she also thought that it made those lips even more perfect and attractive.   
Attractive? What?!   
She abruptly shook it off, putting distance between them, as she noticed she got imperceptibly closer.  
It looked like the delusions of fever were still pretty powerful.   
She shook her head and, swallowing, reached out to gently shake a shoulder of hers.  
She saw her waking up and whispered, "excuse me..."  
Regina opened her deep brown eyes wide, making her gaze end up right in Emma's.  
She whimpered.   
Then, the dark-haired one blinked a couple of times, trying to put focus on Emma, leaving her totally enchanted by that movement.   
She pull up right after, while Emma abruptly stepped back.  
She noticed how, holding Henry in place with a hand, the other one went at once to her own hair, making sure it was tidy.   
"I must have fallen asleep..." she said, her voice still hoarse by sleep. She cleared her throat and looked at her," what time is it?"   
"Half past seven. I have to go to work. I wanted to tell you that you can go if you want. I mean...I don't want to hold you more than necessary, you've already been so kind coming here last night and...I can't imagine your daily schedule. I'll bring Henry to the babysitter and..."  
"No!" The woman abruptly stopped her, and she stood in silence. Yet, she looked distraught by her own exclamation a second later and tried to regain control on herself.  
"No, I mean...if it's ok with you I'll remain with him this morning. You know, in the case he still suffers or cries..."   
And Emma didn't want to admit it, not even to herself, but that was the answer she was hoping on.   
Yes, Regina wasn't her, and -oh Goddess- how she would have liked to be the one to stay there with her son, but...it didn't matter, as long as he would feel better. She guessed love was exactly this, after all. Putting the loved one's good before her own.   
"Oh...Oh good, perfect, there are no problems at all. I mean, if you have nothing else to do... of course, I feel so much more relaxed knowing he is with you."  
She looked tenderly at Henry and Regina looked at her instead, almost surprised.  
"Thank you..." she whispered, staring at her.  
But that gaze was...too weird for Emma to sustain it, so she just nodded, looking away.  
"You don't have to. Thank you, instead, for everything you do for us...for him."  
The dark-haired one nodded, while Emma felt her gaze burning her skin.  
"How are you feeling today?"   
Emma stared at her, not understanding for a moment, then she realized and nodded.  
"So much better, thank you. I feel good now."  
She lied. She felt not good at all, but she thought she must have seemed too weak already to the woman to keep revealing her diseases to her.   
"That isn't true." she answered, out of the blue  
"What?"  
What?  
Regina shrugged, "That isn't true. You're pale like a corpse, it's clear you feel not good at all. Can't you take a sick day?"   
Emma lowered her gaze, slightly ashamed and caught off guard. What was that woman's worry?   
"No... my boss doesn't care about it and...I need my job, or I would pass for more time with him."  
She looked at Henry with sudden longing; she felt like she was losing a lot of time and moments with him, and she was so sorry for that. She didn't have any choice, after all, but if she just could...  
Regina nodded at her explanation and Emma looked at her watch, suddenly realizing how late it was.  
"Ok now...I have to go or I'm going to be late. I really don't know how to thank you. You can stay here if you are comfortable with it, or you can go out, or...whatever you want. Look..." she rummaged in her pocket for a moment.  
"I'm leaving you a copy of the apartment key, so you can go in and out at your will."   
Noticing the surprised expression of the other, Emma hurried to explain herself.  
"I mean, don't think I do it with everyone, just...I trust you, and you are doing me a big favor, so..."   
"Relax, I understood."  
Emma took a deep breath.  
"Ok...ok. So, I'll go. I'll come back at six p.m."   
Regina nodded.  
" Good job and...come back home if you can't do it. I'll deal with your superior."   
Emma was left astounded, but she tried to regain herself as soon as possible.   
Who the hell was that woman?   
"Oh...ok, thank you" she hinted a pretty idiot smile.   
"So, I'll go..." she repeated, as her gaze fell on Henry, still asleep in the other's arms, and she slightly caressed his back.  
"Bye baby, mom will be back soon." and she didn't know why, but she still felt the burning gaze of the woman on her.   
Then Emma rose her gaze to her and smiled.  
"See you soon."  
She returned it, still in that strange way.  
"See you soon, Miss Swan"   
Emma was going to leave with a last nod, but she stopped at the door.  
"...Please...call me Emma"   
Regina smiled.  
"See you soon...Emma."

That afternoon, she ran back home as soon as possible, when her duty in the shop ended.  
For the whole morning, she had been oppressed by hundreds of conflicting thoughts, by questions on questions, which had practically clouded her brain.   
Was she doing the right thing, trusting that woman? Or had she played fast and loose?   
Why had she displayed she was so friendly and available? Did she do it just for Henry? Yes, of course, but Emma had trusted her without even knowing her. And what if she had decided to take him away? What if she had been a person even worse than her? She had even left her the key to her house! And what if she had run away with her son and all her money?  
But then she had thought that Regina Mills was not a child of the street like herself.   
She had a job, money, power...she had even proposed that she could fix possible problems with Emma's boss!   
If she has been serious then...she actually had that much power. And such powerful people don't disappear like this, right? They don't need it.   
Still, because they are so powerful, they can do it without any difficulties...  
And if her motherly love had brought her to do crazy actions? She had so much of it inside her, this was clear. And shouldn't this have been an assurance?  
And why hadn't she asked herself all of these questions the first time she had left Henry with her?   
In short, she had asked herself so many questions that when she sat in the tube that would bring her home, she closed her eyes and tried to silence the world and her brain, sighing deeply in relief.   
Everything would be alright. For once, she had to believe it.  
Perhaps she really was as good of a person as she looked. Yes, because even if she was cold and sometimes sour or sharp in her words, Emma had never doubted that she was a good person.   
Maybe, she could help her with Henry, giving her advice...maybe she would have wanted it. Maybe they would become friends and...  
And Regina Mills was beautiful.   
She opened her eyes wide at that unexpected thought and at her stop's sound.   
She must still have a bit of fever, she told herself.

When she reached her house, she slowly opened the door, uncertain if she would find them both still inside or if they had gone out.  
-To never come back-  
She hastened to delete that thought from her mind and closed the door behind her.   
Nonetheless, seeing a light on in the kitchen made her sigh in relief: they must be there.   
And it wasn't the only thing she noticed. Despite the fever still dulling her senses, she couldn't help but smell a delicious scent of food coming from there.   
So, leaving every scruple behind her, she reached the room.   
The scent intensified more and more while she got closer, reminding her of baked potatoes, of boiled vegetables, meat and...  
She found Regina speaking with Henry, who stood straight in her arms, staring at her almost enchanted. She spoke softly, and her son was watching her as if he understood every single word she was saying.   
Emma stayed still, staring at them for a moment; they were so sweet to leave her breathless, but they also scared her a bit. So united, so in symbiosis with each other, so distant from her...   
She swallowed and cleared her throat entering the room, in order not to succumb to her own fears.   
"Good evening..."   
Regina abruptly stopped speaking and turned towards her with Henry.  
"Hi...sorry, I didn't hear you coming. Is everything alright?"   
Emma nodded, bumping her bag on the couch.  
"Yes...yes, of course. You? How is Henry feeling?"  
Regina looked at him, followed right after by Emma's gaze.  
"So much better now, right, Henry?" she asked him, and Emma couldn't help marveling at the ease with which she was able to change her tone when she started to speak to him.  
Henry smiled at the woman, but Emma didn't give in to discouragement so, leaving her jacket, she got closer to them.  
"Hi Henry, mom is back..." she was horrified by how terrified her voice sounded.   
Terrified by a rejection.   
She stood still, as her son looked her up and down, not knowing if she should reach out to take him or wait for her to...  
Luckily enough, Regina made the first move, pulling her out of her misery.  
She turned towards her and put Henry in her arms.  
"Here you are, baby. Go with mom now."  
And Emma really hoped that his resistance to that change had been just her impression, before he passively accepted the movement and laid himself against her, as she hurried to fix him as best as she could in her arms.   
Regina tore away her gaze and stepped back.  
"I hope you are feeling better..."   
The blond nodded, "Yeah...yeah, thank you."  
"I've...allowed myself to cook something for Henry. I brought him out for a walk and...I guessed it could be useful to have something already cooked when you came back home. You know, he is still so young and...he needs a lot of nutrients in order to grow up well and healthy and..."  
Of course, she had thought she couldn't feed Henry the right way. Emma didn't even blame her so much.   
After all, she didn't even have milk of her own to give him...  
"...and I also cooked something for you. There is a chicken and some baked potatoes. "   
That made Emma freeze. More than that, the insecurity she heard in the woman's voice made it.   
She didn't understand why. After all, it had been Regina doing her a big favor, still...  
"Thank you, I'm...not so good at cooking, so..."   
"Yes, I noticed..." she said, glancing at the cans of ready meals, which towered on the kitchen counters.  
Indeed.   
Emma, uncomfortably, lowered her gaze: "I know, I don't have...enough time to train myself, but...when Henry will be old enough to eat the same foods as me, I promise I'll be able to cook."  
Regina nodded, distant and distracted, bringing her gaze on her again.  
"Well, so... I guess it's time for me to leave. If you should have any kind of problem, do not hesitate to call me, ok?"  
The girl nodded, tightening an agitated Henry to her chest.  
"I really don't know how to thank you properly for your availability...why did you do this?" she asked, seeing her getting closer and taking one of Henry's little hands in hers.  
"You don't have to thank me. I would do anything for him. Besides...Henry's mother's well being is also Henry's well being."   
She smiled at the baby, caressing him one last time, and Emma saw again, in her eyes, that deep and unexplainable pain, which opened like a abyss in her irises just for a few instants, covering itself then with a layer of unbreakable ice.  
And, again, it hurt her.   
And she didn't even know where the so absurd, but still so right, thought could have originated, but it was so strong that she was incapable of waiting a second before speaking.   
"Listen, if...if you want, you can stay here and eat with us. I know this house isn't the best and that maybe you have other things to do and other people to have dinner with, but...if you were alone...I'm sure the food will be enough for us both"   
And it was the glance that Regina abruptly gave to her in that instant that would forever change the idea Emma had of her. Just one glance was enough.   
She read surprise, in her dark, trembling holes, almost disbelief , and then doubt, loss, and finally, gratitude. Yes, a gratitude, which was big enough to grant her, for the first time, the access to another one of the abysses hidden in her gaze, an infinitely sweeter and more comfortable one.  
Yes, Regina Mills was human. And she was alone, just like her. That glance was enough to make her understand that, even if she still didn't know anything about her or about her story.   
"I...would be glad to do it, if it doesn't bother you." she whispered, on a new dimension, which opened towards Emma when she smiled hearing her saying that no, it didn't bother her and that yes, she would be glad too.   
And Emma felt strangely happy about having done something that had made her smile.   
"If you want to take Henry while I set the table..."  
Regina nodded and took him again in her arms, automatically holding him tight, while Emma walk away to arrange the table.  
"Emma..."  
She didn't know why but just hearing her call her name made her freeze in place.   
"Yes?"  
She turned to look at her.  
"You... can call me Regina,"   
Emma smiled, "ok, Regina."

And while she set the table, she watched the two play together, and thought that there must be something unique in all of that, maybe even special.   
And in the end, without even noticing it, she found herself hoping for other evenings like that to come.   
Evenings when she didn't sit at the table alone with Henry, trying to help him and eat at the same time, with no one who she could let off steam with, or even just talk about anything and nothing with, like she was doing with Regina.   
Regina listened to everything, and she had a clever and right answer for every question that was asked. Talking with her was nice.   
And she also discovered, after a lot of words and a couple of glasses of wine, that Regina didn't judge her.   
At first, she had done it, like everyone else, but soon Emma discovered she didn't really do it.  
Emma always thought she had a superpower, a superpower which made her able to discern between truth and lies. Of course, it had betrayed her more than once, but looking in Regina Mills' eyes, she was sure that she was not lying. She has been sure that there was no falsity in her words and in her judgment, just the truth.   
Regina Mills was able to take the reality and place it in front of you without veils or masks; she could hand it to you on a silver plate letting that plate reflect your own life. And it was you, eventually, to judge yourself, not her.   
And this was one of the many unbelievable things she discovered that evening about Regina Mills.  
She also discovered that she worked in the mayor's office, that her father's family had worked there for generations, as city councilors, aldermen and so much more, and that her power resulted from that role.   
Still, she discovered she didn't have a family anymore: her father was dead, her mother was somewhere in Europe administrating her own company and she hadn't any brothers or sisters.   
And Regina Mills wasn't married. This was maybe the biggest mystery about her, and also the one which she had no explanation for.   
How could a woman like her, so beautiful, strong and powerful, be alone?  
It must have been her choice, she concluded. There were no other options, because if someone asked her, she would say that Regina Mills had all the requirements to be a perfect wife.   
But she was more than vague about it, and Emma thought that after all, she was nobody who could ask. 

So, when they said goodbye to each other at the door that evening, after letting Regina spend some more time with Henry after dinner and learning how to prepare that delicious vegetable soup she had done for him, there was silence to cover all the unspoken questions.   
What would it be, then?   
Would they meet again? Would Regina keep helping her with Henry?   
Or maybe it would be better to put an end to that, for the good of them both and for Henry?  
But nothing other than the future could give them those answers, surely not the night's cold silence.   
So, they just said goodbye to each other, nothing more, with an handshake and a smile.   
And with the promise that Regina would tell her when she got home.

\---  
Present day, New York

She was torn away from those sweet memories by the ring of her phone, which made her almost jump in place. It was absurd how she lost track of time when she let herself wander through those memories.  
She read the caller ID: Walsh. She picked up.  
"Emma?"  
"Hi. Is everything alright?"   
"Yes, yes sure. What about you?"  
"I'm good, thanks."  
"I was thinking... we haven't met for a bit and... do you have plans for this evening?"  
Emma lightly laughed. She liked the naivety at the bottom of his voice, which always let her know when he was smiling, even if she couldn't see him.   
"I don't know, I should ask Henry."  
"Sure, sure. Well if...if you're free, I'll come to pick you up at eight. Will you confirm with me?"  
"Sure. Where are we going?"   
She heard him lingering in a weird silence.  
"You will see." he just said, making her smile.  
"It's a surprise?"   
"Kind of."  
She laughed, "ok, so I'll confirm with you later. Talk to you soon."  
"Talk to you soon Emma. Have a good lunch."   
Getting off the phone, her gaze fell again on that picture, which stood out on the album's page, right in its centre, and her smile faded in a sigh.


	3. Arcade

Present day, New York

Eventually, Emma succeeded in having the evening free, but Walsh didn't come to pick her up; it was her who met him at the restaurant at nine, which, obviously, ruined part of that "kind of surprise" he had in store for her. But Walsh was not the kind of man who went after those things. For this reason, Emma got along great with him. He was simple, smart, he knew when to speak and when to remain out of things, and Henry didn't scare him. Instead, the two got along pretty well.   
She had had to refuse his invite to pick her up because Henry's babysitter had warned her she was not able to show up before 8:30 p.m., and she didn't mean to make Walsh wait with possible troubles once at the restaurant nor put pressure on Henry with keeping Walsh at home until the babysitter came. Yes, Henry and Walsh were friends, but staying with her boyfriend in the presence of her child still made her inevitably uncomfortable.   
And she knew Henry was old enough and that she should have stop thinking about him as a child, maybe also stop leaving him with the babysitter every time she went out, but in a year, she still hadn't gotten used to the air she breathed in New York and she didn't feel comfortable leaving him alone in the house.   
Especially not after what happened that morning. 

She couldn't deny that she was a little disturbed by it for the most of the day, but eventually she had forced herself to settle for the explanation that maybe he was just a poor, crazy man that happened to come at her door, just as likely as could have happened with the next one.   
After all, the world is full of madmen.   
She had hoped, however, that the pleasurable evening she was going to spend with Walsh in their restaurant, Ostria, the one where they had their first date, would have cancelled every part left of that unpleasant incursion in her tranquility of mother and woman.   
But, unfortunately, it wasn't like that. 

Walsh had acted strange all evening long, delving into past's memories and looking more uncomfortable than usual, until he had left her alone at the table with an 'I'll be right back'.   
But so far so good, everyone had oddities from time to time, and Walsh was plenty of it, as she was, after all, so she couldn't complain.   
The problem showed up when, while she was busy answering a message from her boss, he came back, or rather, she saw someone come and sit, and she took for granted it was Walsh.   
But, when she put aside her phone and looked up, she noticed that he was not him at all.  
She found in front of her instead, the man that that morning had knocked at her door, raving about family and memories and then had kissed her.   
Crazy, but not so much to bother random people. He really had it in for her, for some unknown reason.   
But was he really so unwary to go to sit at the table she was sharing with her boyfriend, right in the middle of the restaurant?  
If he knew she was there, he must had followed her. And if he had, why ruing all his plans in this way?  
Emma tried to shake off: she couldn't help having those reflections, recollections from a past life as delinquent, both when she heard about some criminal caught red-handed and when she simply watched a detective movie.   
After all, she had been good at what she did, at its time. If she hadn't been deceived they, probably, would have never caught her. She had always thought that, if you had to do something, you had to do it well.   
But all of this wasn't important -she scolded at herself- not now, when it was evident that a crazy maniac had followed her, waiting near her home, threatening her son's safety too.  
"You!"  
The man put his hands ahead.  
"I can explain."  
At least, he was not so crazy to be aggressive in public.  
"You are a stalker!" she said. And even if that was clear...what else could she have said?   
"Don't scream, just hear me out."  
Tsk, don't scream! He called her by her name, he showed up at her house's door, he followed her, and she should not scream? She had all the damn rights to scream!  
"I don't do this very often, so treasure it, love."  
Love. Clear as the sky, he was a maniac.  
"I've come to apologize"  
Really?  
"For trying to kiss me?"   
"I was simply trying to jog your memory."   
Here he went again.  
"It's time for you to go. Now."   
"Emma, your parents are in great danger."  
Who the hell did he think she was?   
"You really have no idea what you're talking about."  
"'Cause you think you're an orphan?"  
Ok, he had done some research, she had to credit him, but it didn't mean that...  
"Because that's haunted you your whole life? I'm here to tell you everything you've believed is wrong."  
And if he was not crazy? What if he was instead some sort of conspiracy theorist journalist who was trying to build a fake article deceiving random people, just to do a scoop about the foster system of the United States or something like that? Anyway, she wouldn't listen to him.  
"You don't know me."  
"Alas, I know you better than you know yourself. I have proof." she saw him rummaging in his pocket searching for something. She tried to grab a knife or something to defend herself, in the case he would have been aggressive towards her. What a shame they had taken away everything with the last plate. Not so bad, there was always the bottle of wine...  
But the man extracted just a piece of paper even pretty small. His proof.  
The mystery, instead, the folly, thickened ...  
"Take a gander, here's an address. If you wanna know who you really are, who your parents are, go there."  
Sure, why not?   
Surely, she would go to an address given to her by her molesting stalker.  
"Leave. Now."  
"You've been there before. A year ago. You just don't remember."   
The thing really started to exasperate her.   
"A year ago, I was in Boston until a fire destroyed my apartment and I moved to New York to have a fresh start with my son."  
Of course, she didn't have to explain it to him, but if it could be useful to convince him, finally, that she was not who he was searching for, then...  
But what he said after that left her completely astounded.   
"Regina really did a number on you..."  
She froze at the sound of her name. A sudden echo resounded in her skull, almost as she had already heard that same voice speaking it, but it gave her a disturbing feeling, almost of disdain.   
She quickly glanced around and, having made herself sure she had no one's attention on her, she acted on impulse and with a burst, she got closer to the man over the table, grabbing his jacket's collar and keeping him in place.  
"What do you know about Regina? What have you done to her?"   
The tone was low and menacing, a furious sparkle lightened her gaze. Because she may not have seen her for years and she may had no idea about the troubles she got herself in, and maybe she had left her alone too, as many before her had done, but Emma did not feel rancor towards her, she never had. And even if she had, she knew she would always care about her.   
And she didn't like at all hearing a madman speak her name.  
"...because I swear that if even you dare lay a finger on her, I..."  
The man laughed, putting his hands up.  
"Woah, calm down Swan!"   
That malicious smile of his, which had suddenly become insufferable, appeared again on his face.  
"Regina is good. And as much as I like your... closeness and your ardor, I think it's better if you let me go now, before someone see us. What would your boyfriend think?"   
Emma threw him a gaze capable of burning down a wall, then she let him go with not so much delicacy.   
She crossed her arms at her chest but didn't stop from glaring at him.  
"So? Answer!"  
He looked at her strangely, almost perplexed.  
"You...remember her?"   
Emma rolled her eyes. C'mon, when would he stop with that farce?  
"Yes, I'd say I remember her pretty well, so, if you don't want me to call the cops, like I should have done this morning, and reporting you for stalking me, then it's better if you start talking. What do you know about her?"   
He seemed astonished, she didn't really know by what, but he slowly shook his head.  
"Let's say we are...old time enemies. But she is not the problem, Swan! At least, I hope she is not... "   
he murmured suspiciously.  
"I don't really know why she made you remember her and...I don't know what you actually remember, something good, and surely fake seeing how you care about her, but I'm sure she will always find a way to pull herself out of trouble, like your family probably would not do, if you don't go help them"   
If Regina was not in troubles, then there was no other family she knew worthy of being saved. Maybe he had only heard about her, researching her life, and had tried to use her in order to convince her of his credibility, who knows?   
"You're a crazy person. Or a liar. Or...both."  
"I prefer dashing rapscallion."   
She kept on staring at him with a grim gaze, so he tried again.  
"Scoundrel?"   
She shook her head.  
"Give me one good reason not to punch you in the face."  
But if he lied, Emma had to admit it, he did it really good.   
"You really don't believe me? Try using your superpower. Yep, I know about that. Use it. See that I'm telling the truth. "  
She probably went around telling that story about her superpower too much.   
She believed in it, yes, and she also trusted in it, but after all, she was not so sure she had it.   
Magic and superpowers did not exist, did they?  
Sometimes, it was like pointing an empty gun, and it ended up betraying her.   
Still, at the man's invite, she tried to use it one more time.  
She looked him straight in the eyes.   
There was always something, in the liars' eyes, a sinister light, a mocking gleam, where their same lies ended up reflecting, but in that man's eyes, she saw only darkness and emptiness. Even too much emptiness.   
"Just because you believe something is true does not make it real."  
That could be the explanation, after all. That must be. If he was crazy, he must believe in what he said, so, he was not lying.  
"Maybe, maybe not. But I know you Swan. You sense something is off. Go to that address. Take a chance. Then, you'll want to talk and when you do, I'll be in Central park, by the entrance of the zoo. Don't do it for me. Or you. Do it for your family. They need your help."   
He was really oppressing. He and his crazy theory. And, to say the truth, even pretty depressing, since it did nothing but remind her that no, she didn't have a family, she had never had, not of that kind at least.  
Suddenly, she felt exhausted and gave up on answering him.   
It didn't make sense, nothing about it did. And after all, why did she care?   
She could believe or not believe, but if she had stopped retorting to his provocations, he would have probably disappeared and would stop making a mess of her life.   
And, almost magically, she saw him stand up and going away.  
She sighed in relief; folly was over.

But something was left, between her fingers. She looked at the small piece of paper the man had left on the table and that she had picked up without noticing.   
She ironically smiled; she couldn't believe it! After all those years, because of a madman's words, a part of her still deceived itself that she was capable of finding that non-existent family.   
She slightly shook her head, making fun of herself; what a fool.   
She had a family: her son. And she had Walsh, maybe one day...  
"Hey, what's that?"   
She looked up and found him in front of her, with his usual sincere smile. She hadn't noticed he was back, but she remembered why she liked him; he was the tranquility she missed.  
And she didn't intend to mess it up over a madman's words. She folded the paper and put it aside.  
"Nothing."  
She saw Walsh sitting down and looking at her.  
" Hope you're still hungry."   
"Oh, Walsh, I couldn't eat another bite." she hinted a laugh.   
Really, it was her head that was full, of follies and confusion.  
"You remember our first date?" Walsh started again, "you were being you, so I couldn't swing a dinner. I brought you here for lunch, which didn't stop you from ordering an ice cream sundae, which wasn't on the menu. I bribed the chef, they made one up."   
They shared a short laughter, but Emma was not understanding what he was really meaning with those words. Like the "pirate" had said, she could sense something was up.   
Maybe she was just nervous, she thought. Maybe she had just to go back home and sleep. And honestly, she didn't want that ice cream brought by the waitress at all. Not that she meant to offend Walsh, but...  
"I remember, I was nervous. Now, I'm full." she smiled, trying to be as polite as possible.  
"Will you at least look at it?"   
And then she saw him reaching for her plate and rotating it, and she really wondered what he wanted her to do...  
"Emma, I don't wanna freak you out, but I couldn't wait any longer. I love you. I love Henry, I love our life together and...I wanna have a future together..."   
No...please, don't do it. Not now, not this night...  
Walsh kneeled before her.  
"Emma Swan, will you marry me?"   
Damn it.

Yes, she had ran away.   
What else could she have done?  
First a stalker with mad theories and disturbing details about her private life, then Walsh's proposal...  
She was sorry for him, really. He had been so nice and kind; he had arranged everything and it would have been a perfect proposal, if just...if just it hadn't been made to her. She loved him, yes, she had never lied about it, just...she wasn't ready. Maybe she would have never be, surely, she couldn't be after only eight months. Come on, by the way the world went, it was a long shot also for him; he should had thought about it.   
She shook her head, walking slowly. At first, she had decided to go straight back home, as soon as possible, but then...then she had thought that it would have been better if she had cleared her mind before bestowing upon her son the bad mood she was collecting. Maybe going to walk a bit in one of her favourite places, the Heckscher Park, would be good.  
It was a peaceful park where she often went with Henry; there were a lot of flowers and a small lake with ducks and swans, and the both of them loved it for the calmness that ruled on it, even in the most crowded hours. Of course, it was already closed at that hour, but even just walking near it was helping her.   
And honestly, she didn't care about the possibility that that mad maniac of a journalist was right behind her, ready to attack her all of a sudden; she needed to relax and she was able to defend herself.   
And then a surprise attack wouldn't have helped his theories' credibility.

She dug her hand in her coat's pocket in order to warm it up and she felt the piece of paper the stranger had given to her.  
An address, really? Right in her neighborhood? Where she had already been?  
And she was really debating going there or not? Really?   
She shook again her head. She had to admit that crazy nights like that didn't happened often to her.  
Yet, the idea that that man could know Regina kept on tormenting her. If he had really decided to hurt her, the fault would have been hers and hers alone, who had done nothing in order to stop him.   
Maybe she should go to that address even just to find some evidence which frames him and finally makes him get arrested.  
But what would she find there waiting for her?  
She sighed deeply. She just wanted Henry to be safe, nothing more, and also Regina, in wherever part of the world she was.

The chirping of a night bird pulled her out from her thoughts, and she instinctively turned to look at the top of the trees inside the park. She had always liked parks, especially the big and quiet ones.   
They were a needed immersion in the natural quiet among all the city turmoil. She had brought Henry to them every time she could.  
She smiled, remembering him as a child on all fours on the grass. He had always loved nature too and watching him play with the butterflies and the flowers had often been her favorite pastime.   
She had passed beautiful hours in Boston's parks, and before that, in Phoenix's ones, with a small Henry and with Regina.  
She lowered her gaze, resuming walking.   
She and Regina had lived very important moments in parks, at least important to her, which would remain unique and unforgettable, despite the way things had ended.  
After all it was normal, wasn't it?   
One day two persons love each other and they feel like it will never end, and the day after they just don't feel the same love anymore and give up on each other. Easy.  
But the problem for Emma was probably that she hadn't given up on Regina.   
She had let her go.   
She sighed, tired of thoughts and doubts she had even over thought in her last twelve years.   
Maybe she really had to be sure that everything was alright. Maybe she could try search for her phone number and...but she stopped.   
They had already made that decision a long time before and she had made enormous steps ahead since then. Doing one backwards, wasn't the solution she needed.   
She would investigate. She would discover who that man really was, what was his name and what he wanted, and she would protect Regina even if she would never know it.   
She owed her that, and simply, she couldn't help doing it, or the thought of it would have never stopped tormenting her. 

\---

Thirteen years ago, Phoenix

They saw each other again. And then again, and again.  
Because raising a baby wasn't easy, and Regina could give her all the necessary hints and advice.  
Because Henry was happy, with Regina, and he stopped crying, and he smiled so much. And Emma loved to see Henry happy.   
And then, Emma knew that Regina also loved Henry and seeing her greet him every time like it was the last one, always broke her heart.   
With all the difficulties she and him were having, getting used to one another's presence, she was not sure that was the best thing for them, but she could almost say she needed Regina's presence. And then, she was sure that she would help them with that problem also, because Regina Mills really was a good person.   
Of course, she loved staying with Henry, holding him in her arms and playing with him, but Emma's difficulties surely didn't go unnoticed to her, so she did her best to help her.   
When he cried, she calmed him down and then put him in her arms before he had totally stopped, so that, when finally calm, he found himself in Emma's arms and smiled to her.   
And Henry was so sweet when he smiled that Emma couldn't let him go anymore.   
While playing with him, Regina tried to convince him to play also with his mother, and she talked so much to him. One time Emma had heard her say that, despite how much she loved him, she would not stay with him forever and for this reason he needed to love his real mother.   
Yes, probably Regina wouldn't stay forever, but Emma intended to get the most from the time she had.  
A happy time, as she probably had never had.   
She had never expected, in her whole life, to have one day a joy like that; since she had known about her pregnancy, she had never believed, not even for an instant, that she could have been capable of being a mother, or that she and that baby would have been happy, and, when she had met Regina Mills for the first time, she would have never said that, of all people, she would have been the one helping her in that hard task. She, who at first seemed to despise her, like everyone else did, for her actions.  
Instead, Regina was different.  
She had understood it the first time she started to know her, that evening months before, when she had prepared dinner for her and Emma had invited her to stay.   
Regina Mills was a fragile woman, that on that fragility built her strength every day. And she wore a thousand masks, it had taken time to her to make her lay them down, but when she succeeded, with Henry's help, their child...well, what she had found had...captivated her. Totally.   
Because Regina Mills was beautiful outside, enchanting, but also inside, especially inside.   
She was, for Henry, the mother Emma had always desired for herself. She saw it, and she wished one day she could reach her level.  
For him, Regina sacrificed it all, and if she had hated Emma at first, it had been just because she had been taking Henry away from her. Emma couldn't blame her, she also would have hated anyone who would have tried to take her little angel away from her.   
And for this reason, she didn't hate Regina. Because she made him happy, and she succeeded in all the things Emma failed in, but she didn't try to take him away from her anymore.   
She put their relationship even before her own with him; she trusted Emma in a way no one had ever done before. Probably because she had understood who she was, and how much she tried with all her strengths to be who Henry needed her to be.   
Of course, sometimes they quarreled, many times actually, because Emma was a "stubborn little girl" who knew how to drive Regina mad when she wanted, but the way in which Regina shut herself off after those quarrels, shielding again behind all her masks, made her feel so alone that she ran at once to apologize for whatever she had done, even when it wasn't completely her fault.   
And surely Regina had flaws, probably many flaws, as everyone; she was sullen and haughty with almost all the other people and woe to the one who brought up her past, but other than that...Emma really believed she was one of the most amazing people she had ever met. 

In this way, the months went by; some days Regina was staying at Emma's house, keeping Henry when she didn't have to work or making Emma's life easier in some other way, and other days Emma and Henry were going to her house.   
Regina had a big and beautiful house, so they all preferred the latter.   
And it happened often to Emma, walking through that stately entrance, feeling as though a commoner admitted to a queen's court and wondering what she had done so noble in her short and trivial life to deserve it.   
Maybe Henry was the only good thing she had ever done.   
And Regina became exactly that for her, a queen. Because she was beautiful, regal, and she could give her all she needed.   
As the time went by, Emma started to look at her in a different way, in that way, which conquers your heart and soul.   
Regina had the strength Emma fed with in the toughest moments, that beauty she had always searched for in the world, that essence, mixed of light and darkness, which made her different and unique. Regina was the guide who lead her from the person she had been to the one she wished to be, the outstretched hand she had always waited for, ready to give her trust and pull her out of her misery. Until even just the memory of her smile became light in the darkness, warmth, of that affection always searched, in the cold; life which flowed into hers.   
And she struggled to keep the secret, despite feeling the urgent desire to say it, to make her hear the feelings she had been able to awaken in her, to make her understand how much she was actually worth, because no, Regina didn't know it.   
When she came back earlier from work and found her asleep with Henry, she stood staring at her, getting lost on her features which she desired so much to caress and on those lips in which she was sure she would have found a heavenly perdition, and every time it happened, she felt that desire burn painfully inside her chest.  
But she feared losing her too much; she wouldn't allow herself to make such a mistake. And then, they probably would have never fit together, there were too many differences between them, she thought.   
Instead, she had stopped having doubts about the future.   
It was still terribly uncertain, and she had been full of questions about what would have been of them after that, and what would have been of the weird family they had built together, the only and most important one she had ever had; she could see those questions also in Regina's eyes, who actually had no legal rights to Henry, even if she didn't voice them.   
But, since Regina had started to mean so much to her, Emma had stopped worrying about it, because all of that didn't matter anymore. All that mattered was Henry, and Regina, and her hope for her to never go away leaving them.  
Inside her, she felt that Henry also wished for it, as young as he was.

And Regina didn't leave, at least then.   
Time passed and things did nothing but grew better.  
Henry, growing up, came to understand that Emma was his mother, even if she had never fed him with breast milk of her own, and that she loved him, as Regina did.   
And Henry was happy, and Emma was happy. And, apparently, Regina was too; her smiles weren't the same as before. There was a new light in her eyes, which almost looked like... fulfillment, and Emma couldn't help loving them even more because of that.  
And so, Regina might go away leaving them living their life together, but by then, they were no more Emma and Henry, or Henry and Regina; they were Emma, Henry and Regina, and it wouldn't have made sense any other way.  
So, they just went ahead, exchanging never revealed dreams and smiles, hiding in that magic wrinkle in time from the imminence of their lives. 

It was a day like many others, the one that brought them to a sunny park, in the middle of the afternoon, walking and letting Henry play on the grass.   
Emma and Regina watched him, sitting on a bench. Their baby was so cute, and he had grown fast, so fast- observed Regina. Yes, those months had passed very quickly, and they had been strangely easy -Emma confirmed- thanks to Regina, she added.   
And then she didn't know if it was the fresh wind, which lightened the heart and the mind, or Henry's laughter, which sweet, reached them, but something just told her it was right, all of that. The three of them were right. And only a few things had seemed right to Emma in her life.   
And maybe what was right had to be honored , and that feeling had to be shared.   
So, without thinking about it, Emma laid her hand on Regina's, which was on the wood bench, and she slightly squeezed it. They had never had a so-direct contact, they had always avoided to have a real one, because until they were sure about what they had, they hadn't wanted to deceive themselves of being able to have it, after having lost so much.   
But in that moment, in the green of a park in Phoenix, Emma was sure about what she had, and she chose to not let it go again.   
Of course, she could not know if Regina would have shared that choice, and she stayed still waiting for a sign, whichever way, from her, but when, after endless seconds, she felt her hand turn to intertwine her fingers with hers, she understood she had done the right thing.  
Even that could have been enough, even just that moment of shared intimacy.   
Regina didn't make another move; she didn't say a word. But when they stood up to take Henry back home, she didn't let go of her hand and instead, she granted her a single, bright, glance which made Emma see in a second all her dreams realized, filling her with joy. Yes, that could be enough.  
But it didn't have to, because as soon as they entered Regina's house, near the park, with Henry asleep in his cot, still in that silence loaded with questions and joy, it was Regina the one who got closer to her, disarming her with a simple glance, smiling to her with sincerity and sweetness.  
She held her face and merged her lips with hers, letting herself be wrapped by Emma's arms and crowning, with a single motion, every dream of infinity she had been capable of generating in her.   
And despite what Emma thought, they fit perfectly. Regina was a rich and beautiful city councilor and she was just a poor single mess-of-a-mother, but in some way they fit.   
The feeling held in that kiss was something so deep and rooted, so familiar, that Emma was sure she would remember it for the rest of her life. A life that, if she had been lucky enough, she would have lived with her. Because this was Regina's magic, the ability of generating a thousand more dreams, by realizing just one of them.   
These were dreams about love, about family, and in that moment, about the young and green hope, which filled her heart with the idea of building that future and that family with her.   
And she already had that by then, but that might become even bigger and happier, as long as Regina would remain by her side. 

\---  
Present day, New York

So, Henry knew it.  
Tsk, little scoundrel.  
He had understood that Walsh wanted to propose and he did not tell her anything. No warning that could have prepared her psychologically, no hints, nothing. Absolutely nothing.   
She sighed, finally settling in bed after that heavy day (and after checking the door to be locked at least four times).  
After all, she could not blame him for that. Sure, he was maybe the only one to know she didn't like surprises, and that she preferred to be always prepared, but... but who would have ever thought that not even a marriage proposal could have been the exception to the rule?   
Surely, Henry must have thought that the thing would have made her happy; besides, that meant he agreed, but...   
She took a deep breath, forcing herself to calm down and to release the grip on the sheet she was creasing in her clenched fists.   
He couldn't have told her. He wouldn't have dared if he hadn't been sure before.   
The truth, she knew it, was that she was trying to blame someone so she did not feel the weight of that hanging answer on her shoulders.   
As long as it was Walsh the one who had to wait, and in this case being let down, there were not so many problems; she had her freedom after all. But if even Henry was waiting for her decision and maybe hoping for her to say yes...well, it was a whole different ballgame.   
Damned Walsh!  
She started to understand why marriages ruined relationships that had been perfect before. It was enough to put a sincere affection under legal constrictions ( and especially habitual constrictions) to make this one reduce to duty and reason of constant turmoil, exactly what she wanted to avoid.  
She sighed again.   
After all, maybe she should have been grateful to him for deciding to include her son in their life at such a level to want to marry her. Yes, without doubts, she couldn't do anything but admire him, though...  
Though...  
Though she wasn't ready.  
She thought again over Henry and the conversation she had had with him as soon as she had come home. Sure, the fact that he agreed made it all easier.  
"We've got a good thing going here, just the two of us."   
She had told him.  
"Yeah, and we'd still have a good thing if it was just the three of us"   
he had answered.  
She smiled dryly to the dark ceiling.   
Yes, Henry, we would, but how many things that you are overlooking would change.  
After all Henry was just a boy, she didn't expect him to envisage all the changes her choice would have implied, but at the same time she wasn't sure she wanted to run up against his reaction once he realized that things were not as easy as he had imagined them to be.   
But the feeling should have gone over everything, haven't it?  
A real feeling should have done it. It had, in the past, when they had cohabited with Regina.   
Emma asked herself why eventually her thoughts always had to come back to her.   
She asked herself when she would stop looking back at the past, because as much as she tried to persuade herself about the contrary, she had never done it. And surely leafing through that old photo album and telling that story to her son had not been steps in said direction.   
"You told me yourself, we were happy when we lived with... Regina." Henry had also told her that night, thing that had brought her to ask herself if telling him everything had really been a good idea.   
"Yes, Henry, but..."   
But Walsh, unfortunately, was not Regina, and Emma wasn't the person she was thirteen years before.   
She hadn't found the courage to end that sentence, because the end hadn't seemed right.  
If they...if they were really going to be...married ( she feared even thinking about it), making Henry doubt the truthfulness of their love wouldn't have been the right way to start.   
However, her son still was the one who knew her better, and he knew that he had to stop when he reached the boundary of her space. He knew not to surpass it.   
So, he hadn't said anything else about it for the night. They had spent some time playing videogames and their conversation had been reduced to simple curses and exclamations of victory or of defeat, before they both went to bed.   
She loved those moments with her son, just the two of them. She couldn't help loving them.   
And she couldn't accept they would eventually end, at least not before the time and not by her hand. Because she was sure of one thing, and it was the same thing Henry hadn't thought about; if she were to get married, those moments of just the two of them would be over.   
She turned on one side, shut her eyes tight to recall sleep, giving in to the sweet but deleterious call of the memories, hoping they would be able to distract her, at least during her rest time, from that reality which was becoming too oppressive. 

\---  
Three years before, Storybrooke

Sometimes Emma was overwhelmed by a peculiar sensation.   
It lasted just a few instants usually, the most random and unimaginable ones of the day, while she drank a coffee in that cheap and cheerful diner or while she closed Miss Blanchard's fridge, but it was so strong that it made her shiver.   
Nervous stability was essential, if she wanted to keep going with that crazy fight against the hurricane Regina Mills. She couldn't allow herself any mistakes in competing with her, and fortunately that sensation had never put that at risk, but, thinking over it, it disturbed her.  
It was like a haze, a wrapping and terrifying warmth, which crawled from her legs to her head, making her shiver; it was, all in one, a sensation of perfect harmony and absurd unsuitability.   
Looking closely into it, it showed a slow drift into habits, into relationships and into affections; it was like a huge filamentous skein which, invisibly, clung to her, anchoring her at the town land, revealing its presence and her tight grip only in those moments.   
It was that town itself, sometimes, that disturbed her.  
There was something strange in it, a sort of toxic air of safeness and familiarity, which maybe would saturate her lungs and drain her of every will, not to mention then its inhabitants: loose cannons and magnets for trouble.   
Really, Emma found it surprising how many events had happened, in such a short time, in a so traditional and small town. Not a day passed without something or someone being in danger or some sort of tragedy occurring. And maybe anywhere was like that, but never in such an evident and strange way like in Storybrooke. The name said it all. 

For this reason, she had decided to become sheriff, after poor Graham's death.   
Well, actually for this reason, and because it scored a point in her favor in that rough game between her and the mayor.   
Yes, the words, the ideals, all the things she had said to them...those people really believed in her, and the thing seemed strange to her. And even more strange was that they had set fire to the town hall just to make her become sheriff! To be honest, sometimes she wondered if they were just a group of crazy people, but nonetheless she couldn't deny that one of the main reasons why she had decided to apply to the sheriff position was her, Regina Mills.   
It was a way to get in her way, to take a position which would keep her, at least temporarily, safe from the risk of being kicked out of the town (even if Regina still had that power), maybe even just to see the expression on her face when she would notice that she had lost this part of their game.  
And she had made it, she had gotten that office, which also meant a job. She had gained a reaction from her, that expression she had waited on for so long, and she was satisfied, more that satisfied; maybe for the first time, she was seeing a real possibility of winning that conflict.   
But...there was something off in that weird sensation and in the sinuous thoughts wrapped in dark elegance, which refused to leave her head.

In some ways, Emma noticed, the game was getting out of hand.   
Or maybe, it was just taking a different path, this she couldn't say, but she was not sure that that path was one to her advantage.  
The problem was that Regina couldn't end surprising her.   
She was a valiant rival, she had to admit; she seemed capable of forecasting her every move, and every time she was going to get the upper hand, she did something so unpredictable and unexpected to mess it up, showing her that she was that one who still had the upper hand. 

For example, Emma didn't think she would ever be able to see her as human again as she had seemed when her son's life had been in danger, that day at the mine.   
Before her desperation and her watery eyes, Emma had almost felt guilty for her own, pragmatic, ability to remain so clear headed and efficient in situations of danger.  
Maybe she is feeling this way because she is more of a mother than I will ever be able to -she had thought.  
Regina hadn't waited a second before asking for her help when Henry had been in danger.  
She believed she would never have done it, that she would never put aside her arrogance and her pride, not with her, but then...   
Then she had put her, their, son's life, in her hands.   
In front of the only way to save him, she had admitted she wasn't able to save him by herself.  
She had gotten one step closer and she had looked at her, so intensely to allow her to feel something, something... that she thought she would never be able to forget.   
She had put all her trust, all her warnings, all her threats in that gaze, but above all, Emma had seen the plea of a desperate mother.  
"Bring him to me" had been the only thing she had said, so close to caress her with her breath, so different to make her almost believe that she was going to...yes, that she was going to...  
But then Emma had felt guilty about having those thoughts in such a moment, about having judged her so negatively when, after all, she was just a woman, a fragile human being, who she had felt to be in some way connected with, in those very long instants, by their son or maybe even by something else unknown.   
She had run to save Henry, in what seemed in those moments the only, true aim of her life: preserving his.   
And she had succeeded; she had avoided tragedy; she had brought him back in his mother's arms safe and sound, with such a joy that she was overcome by it, imagining all the happiest scenes.   
But then, Regina had surprised her again.   
She had pushed her away from them and with her, she had pushed away all of her expectations.  
How could she be so cold, so ungrateful, so evil to not even let her hug her child after she had terribly feared for his safety too?   
So, Emma had told herself that what she had showed earlier, even if extremely persuasive, had been just a sham, because how was it possible to change so much in just a few moments?  
Maybe she just hadn't wanted to get her designer clothes dirty by climbing down the mine, taking advantage of that difficult moment to use her. 

But, sham or not, the problem was that that gaze hadn't left of her head, and with it that strange, warm feeling she had felt when she had been so close to her.  
She had even accepted a night shift as deputy, in order to kick those thoughts out of her head.  
And then she had found out about Graham, and the thing had gotten her out of her mind.  
As soon as she had gotten rid of him and his pathetic excuses, that night, she hadn't been able to handle herself. She had left the car and walked to her door, ready to knock , even break it down if necessary, because Regina couldn't act that way; she couldn't subject everyone around her to those lethal and unfair weapons, which were her voice, her posture, her beauty...she couldn't. And she could not try to convince Emma that she was a good mother, if she acted that way, not if her son was her son.   
And her fist had been already on the door when a willpower she hadn't even believed she had, had stopped her.   
She probably would have gained her attention with that move, of course, and then? Then what would she have said, "stop going around seducing and terrorizing people just to be free to do what you want"?  
She would have been taken for a deranged and rude person and surely, she would have put herself seriously at risk, let alone how much she would have exposed herself.   
No, she couldn't.  
Obviously, what she was feeling wasn't jealousy, it couldn't be, but maybe it would have been what Regina would have thought, and that was the last weapon Emma had to grant her.   
So, she had gone away, swearing revenge.   
And revenge she had had. 

In some way, Graham seemed to have fallen in love with her. He was a good guy, she had never had doubts about it, but there was also something strange in him, maybe too much benevolence mixed with a good portion of imagination.   
Anyway, at first she had repulsed him, until she had understood that he was her revenge.  
What would have been wrong, after all? It was what he wanted, maybe it was also what she wanted, but surely it was not what Regina wanted, and that made it a more than efficient move.  
She had sided with him, she had indulged that crazy fake research of his , which ended with an old vault and a furious Regina. And there, she had got what she wanted, her revenge.   
She had seen real hurt in her gaze at the discovery of Graham's "betrayal", but Emma hadn't cared.  
Maybe then she would have understood , she had told to herself, what playing with people meant.  
And she hadn't been able to do anything but felt an irrational rage when Regina had hit her with a strength she hadn't expected.   
And well, after all, she was a woman too and she had never backed out of a scuffle, so she had replayed, pouring out in those unrestrained gestures all the frustration that woman could make her feel.   
But luckily, Graham had intervened to stop her. Yes, she had to admit that maybe she had gone a little too far, but in her mind, she had deserved it. And then, Regina had started the fight first.   
But then everything had taken second place when Graham, a little time after revealing, with a kiss, a feeling somehow authentic for her, had died in her arms.   
Dead. Just dead.   
She had mourned him as the dear friend he had been. She doubted she had ever really been in love with him, but he had been important, even if she had known him for a short time.   
But maybe a short time in her life was enough to have a bad ending, this was what had nagged her more than everything.   
Would it have really been wise then, to let Henry enter in it?  
And then, after two weeks, was the new sheriff's election. 

Not for a second had she doubted that Regina would have her own candidate to nominate, but no, this time she wouldn't stand still, letting go such an opportunity, and she wouldn't let Graham's place be taken by another more than corrupted "slave" of hers.  
So, she had applied.   
In those weeks, she hadn't seen Regina often.  
Sometimes she had seen her in the street, or on her house's walkway as she went out (when she secretly went there to take Henry), but they hadn't had any more direct exchanges.   
Still, when Regina had come to see her in her office the day of the candidacy, she had been, again, the usual Regina. She hated her, like usual, she provoked her, but there were no traces of that rage she had noticed, well defined in her hurt gaze, that night at the vault.   
Maybe she was just able to hide it, buried in her unsettling regality, or maybe it had become just part of their reminders. She couldn't say it, but the thing gave her a relief she wasn't able to explain herself. Maybe, if she had stopped and thought over it, she would have noticed that she had avoided her in the past fourteen days, exactly for the fear of finding that rage still there, in her voice and in her gaze.  
But Emma didn't like to stop and think over things, no, she was more the action girl, just like Henry, who didn't think about anything, but run away from home every time he could.

He couldn't stop surprising her too; he was a really brilliant boy, determined and also quite commanding. He knew how to make her listen to him and he was always able to turn the cards in his favor, in an honest way or not, a feature she thought he had took entirely from his mother, the one who had raised him.   
She had applied to be the sheriff also for him, in order to provide him at least one parent who was really a hero; he had been the one she had looked to while she spoke on the election day.   
After everything that happened, the tale of the fire, she had hoped to be able to pull at least a good lesson for him from the rottenness, even at the cost of losing the election.   
But, apparently, at least sometimes good values were useful.   
She had won, and her son's happiness at the news had definitely swept away every doubt she might still have about it.   
She was, officially, sheriff of Storybrooke.   
Nice trouble. She, a former prisoner, being the sheriff.   
So many surprises and nonsense life could have in store!

Obviously, Regina hadn't been happy about it. Not that Emma had ever had hopes in it, instead. She had had exactly what she wanted, to win that fight. And after all, she thought she could prove useful to Regina, as a sheriff.   
The previous one had been an underling of hers, a puppet in her hands, Emma would not act that way, but...it was pretty clear, in her opinion, that that town needed to be controlled. She almost felt sorry for Regina as a mayor, and she was sure that, then more than ever, she wouldn't be able to do everything by herself and that in the end she would find herself forced to ask for her help. She would savor the moment.  
Come on, they have even tried to kill her! Of course Emma had arrived on time, but if she hadn't made it to save her, if she had been a different kind of person and had chosen to leave her there and run away...Regina would have died, and the town seemed to be ready to take the risk. Disgusting.   
It had been Mr. Gold who had masterminded everything, but she didn't think he had acted alone. Moreover, she doubted that someone of the "noble citizens" would have thrown themselves into the flames to rescue her.  
It had to be terrible, she thought.   
She surely would need her help, sooner or later, and she would grant it to her, if Regina didn't decide to force it onto her. Because this was the way in which she intended to win: demonstrating her usefulness.   
But she also tried not to think too much over it because she feared that if she started to feel too sorry for her rival, she would end up making missteps, gifting her of her victory.   
Because that was Regina. Hers wasn't a good situation, sure, but over being at least partially responsible for it, she was like a wounded panther: she hid her hurt, and even if she let part of it to transpire sometimes, letting it move another's soul, as soon as the poor one had done what she needed (that is: he had fallen in her trap), and the worst of the hurt had passed, she didn't hesitate to maul him.  
Maybe she didn't do it on purpose, she didn't premeditate it, but she was done in this way, that was all.   
But Emma wouldn't fall in her trap like everybody else.   
Sure, if just she had been able to stop thinking about her for only a second of her day, maybe the challenge would have been easier. Instead, she saw her hair in the black of coffee, she heard her footstep in the song which played in her ears and searched for her figure with her gaze through every street.   
She doubted those were positive signals. 

But that afternoon, she was determinate to see her in private, maybe in her house, catching her in a moment of normality, hoping to get more truths from her, far from prying ears (included Henry's ones, who was at school for a project with Ms. Blanchard).   
A woman-to-woman, sheriff-to-mayor, conversation, searching for answers.  
Yes, finding explanations for her misleading behaviors would remove the questions which ran through her mind, and with them, all those thoughts about her.   
Emma was sure about it.   
So, almost secretly, she had gone to Regina's house by foot.   
She had hesitated just a moment before knocking, still unsure about where that conversation would bring her, but then she had decided to let every doubt go and lay it all on the line, because with Regina, it went like this: you could win or you could die. 

\---  
Present day, New York

Emma turned in her bed for the umpteenth time, victim of a confused and agitated sleep, mixed with fragments of dreams. She felt like she was wandering through the mist searching for something, something unknown, struggling unconsciously in frenzied and uncoordinated movements.   
Then, the mist vanished all at once, while its grayness slowly dyed itself with colors and assumed a form, a human form, it became image.   
She had found her.  
She remained still then, focusing on her with all her strengths so she did not let her slip away. Then, the figure spoke, and her mind started to narrate. 

\---

Three years ago, Storybrooke

"Sheriff Swan..."  
Regina looked at her up and down, after having spoken those words with ill-concealed irony and conceit.  
"Madame Mayor..."  
Emma fixed her eyes in hers.  
"To what do I owe this...unexpected visit?"  
Emma snorted in her head, sure that the adjectives passed through the woman's mind had been very different from "unexpected".   
"I'd like to talk to you."  
Brown eyebrows raised skeptically, waiting for her to say more.  
"In private, if it's possible." she added, understanding that she would never invite her to go inside on her own.   
Regina didn't answer. She just moved away, opening the door wider, in a silent invite to enter.   
Emma didn't wait another second before passing the doorway with nervous steps. What was there to be nervous for, she wondered, when the atmosphere she found to welcome her was so...warm and so...  
home-like, even for her, who had gone inside merely one time.   
She heard her closing the door and she turned to look at her.  
"I don't think I've anything to tell you, Sheriff."   
And only then, Emma allowed herself the luxury to look at her. She had not before, in order to avoid a sudden loss of determination, which she needed to enter, but now...now she couldn't, and she didn't want, to avoid it.   
And Regina was beautiful, like always.   
Even taken at any time in her house, she was perfectly dressed, made up and in perfect order. How she did it, remained a mystery to Emma.  
She wore a black sheath dress, which arrived at her knees, of a simplicity and a charming elegance at the same time. Emma was sure that that same dress on herself would seem a garbage bag worn by a pole, but on Regina it was just...perfect. It wrapped her shapes in a graceful and not excessive way, it covered the right length of legs kept in black fishnet tights. It suited her styled hair perfectly and it was deliciously matched with silver jewels.   
She could be arrogant, obnoxious, even evil when she wanted, but she would look beautiful all the same to Emma's eyes, one of the most beautiful women she had ever met.  
She forced herself to focus, clearing her throat.  
"No, I imagine you don't, but I do."  
Regina put on a plastic smile and with a gesture, invited her to follow into the living-room, the same one in which she had been brought the night they had first met.   
"If you have something to tell me, you will do it comfortably sat. Never let it be said that I don't know how to welcome a guest."  
Emma didn't object and followed her instructions. But once in the room, she stayed upright.   
She doubted Regina would sit, and she didn't want to be the only one doing it.   
Regina already was...majestic, in her figure. Being inferior to her also in the position wouldn't help her at all.  
She saw her messing about at a small table in the corner of the room, before turning towards her, with that smile still glued to her face.  
"Cider?"   
And what Emma wouldn't have done, to wipe it away.  
She nodded and waited for her attention while she poured two glasses of it. Then, the Mayor reached her, walking at a calm and measured pace, handing it to her.  
Emma grabbed it.  
"You don't like me as Sheriff, do you?"   
The smile on Regina's face widened, almost as she was amused, looking at the extinguished fireplace.  
"Of course, I don't." crystal clear as always.   
Emma didn't answer and she went on.  
"Do you know, Miss Swan, in the place where I come from, these offices are reserved for the ones who really deserve them, to the ones who earn them, with hard work and untarnished fortitude. I've never liked this...modern system."   
Emma rolled her eyes.  
"This modern system is called town elections. Where do you come from?"  
Regina made her tongue click after swallowing a sip of cider.  
"From a far-away place. Knowing it wouldn't help you, since I imagine you have not traveled much in your life."   
"Oh, more than what you imagine. I've lived in foster houses all over America."   
"Never out of America then."  
"Do you come from outside America?" asked Emma, sincerely curious, but Regina had no intention of answering that question.   
She intersected her gaze.  
"Did you come here to tell me something or not? I don't believe it was to confirm my disappointment of your recent appointment, Sheriff."  
Emma nodded,  
"right, I..."  
And now? What did she have to ask exactly? Or better, how did she have to ask it?  
Those brown eyes pointed at her in wait, moving slightly in place, weren't doing anything to help her.  
"Enlighten me." the other one urged her.  
Suddenly, a single question crossed her mind, erasing all the others. And, without thinking too much about it, she asked it.  
"Why does everyone hate you?"   
The dark eyebrows twitched upward, in a mixture of astonishment and disbelief.  
"I beg your pardon?"   
Emma cleared her throat again.  
"I mean, beside...your demeanor, why is everyone so biased against you? They would be ready to come in front of your house with torches and pitchforks, as far as I've heard, if they weren't so scared of you.   
Why then are they so scared of you?"   
she added that last question to the reasoning and stood staring at her.   
She saw lightens of rage passing through reflections of disbelief in her eyes, that she however forced herself to conceal in her composure, losing that smile just for a second, to replace it then with a short laughter, slightly shaking her head.  
"Miss Swan, I don't think you..."  
"Answer me."  
Regina abruptly looked at her, flames in her eyes, flames directed to her, but she still tried to keep them under control.  
"This is because you have the wrong company. Not everyone hates me, and I'm not interested in the ones who do. If you had a prestigious position like mine, then you would understand that these are just implications..."  
"Tell me who doesn't hate you." Emma challenged again, without letting her finish, going against all common sense.  
Regina bit her tongue, probably trying to avoid answering her in an ill-mannered way, or worse, kicking her out of her house. But Regina was a perfect politician.   
"Sidney, the journalist of the Daily Mirror, the mourned Sheriff Graham, who you had the undeserved honor to replace..."  
Regina's voice faded out in a gaze, which wandered through the room searching for other names to add to that meager list.  
Emma almost felt sorry for her. Almost.  
She grinned.  
"Oh, I can swear about that..."  
The dark-haired one murderously glared at her, just to go on with her list.  
"Doctor Whale."  
Emma snorted, "I wouldn't wish Doctor Whale's liking, not even to you..."  
Regina ignored her, "as you can see, not everyone hates me."  
"Wow, such a big list, I'm impressed! I've seen more American states in my life..."  
The other one gave her a look halfway between indignation and bore.   
"Do you always use your past to feed your victimism?"   
"And do you always sleep with someone to avoid being hated by him?"   
At that point, Regina was holding her glass so tight that Emma wouldn't have been surprised to see it crumbling to pieces.  
"How do you dare?"  
She was furious, but at least she wasn't smiling anymore. Emma was satisfied.   
"I don't know, you tell me."   
In that moment, she was sure that if that woman had had magic, just like Henry thought, she would have strangled her right there and then.   
She saw her took a deep breath, maybe trying to calm herself for the last time.  
"Listen, if you came here just to insult me, you can perfectly come back to..."  
"Why does Henry hate you?" she asked point-blank.  
Regina gave her a burning glare. Emma didn't know if it was for being interrupted or for the question itself, but there was something different in it this time. She was sure she was able to get a glimpse of...pain.  
"This is none of your business" she cut her out.   
She really must have gone over the limit, because Regina turned around, putting the glass back at its place. Emma laid hers in turn, and part of her felt even...guilty.   
"Listen, I know that..."  
She saw her turning abruptly and getting threateningly closer, looking more than ever like a hungry panther ready to attack.  
"Probably because he is surrounded by too many incompetent, inappropriate and mentally unsteady people like you!" she assailed her.  
"Are you calling me incompetent?"   
Because she already knew she was inappropriate most of the times and maybe even mentally unsteady, after all.   
Regina almost grinded her teeth.  
"You are one of the worst companies he may have"  
"Oh really? And who says this? You?"   
"His mother says it!" she pierced through her with such darkened eyes, they seemed black.  
"What do you think, that I don't see every time Henry runs from home to be with you?"  
This caught Emma by surprise. Yes, actually she believed she didn't notice it.   
But she was not able to hide her emotions like Regina was, so she showed her uncertainty.  
"Do you really believe that I'm such a fool or so distracted to not even notice when my son isn't at home and you are in the back street in that horrible junker of yours believing to not be seen?"   
Emma was about to retort at the insult to her car, but she didn't allow her to, surprising her with laughter.  
"There is only one reason why I allow him...you, to do that, and surely it is not because I like or trust you."  
She took another step closer and Emma took a step back.  
"I do it because I know, as a mother and as a mayor, that the more I would try to forbid him, the more he would do it, just to go against my will. I know my son, Miss Swan, I've known him for more than ten years..."   
She marked that last part on purpose, Emma was sure about it.   
She swallowed without making her notice it, taken aback by a sudden discomfort, not wanting to make her see she had hit the right spot.   
"...I've raised him, believe me if I say that this is exactly what he would do"   
she went on, just to smile threateningly then.  
"No. Henry will understand you are noxious, and when he does, he will turn his back to you, leaving you with nothing. To who do you think he will come back to when he is hurt, angry or cold? To the woman who had left him at his birth or to who had always given him a cooked meal and a warm bed?"   
But those words awakened Emma's dormant anger, that old furor with which she had presented herself to so many times, even if not that one. She stared at her, a few steps apart, sharpening her gaze.  
"Why do you do this? What do you get from being so cruel?"   
Regina stared shocked at her.  
"Are you really asking me this? Miss Swan, you are Henry's birthmother. Somewhere inside of you, even if very, very deep, there must be at least a grain of his intelligence. Try to use it and put yourself in my shoes."  
Emma stayed silent. Funny Regina was the one complaining of being insulted when she had done nothing but insult her since the first time they had met.   
But maybe, if she really thought over it, and she tried really hard, she could succeed in putting herself in her shoes, and she could understand that what she was saying wasn't completely wrong.  
She let her go on.  
"You live in a peaceful town where every day is like the previous one with your son; you have a big house, you can grant the child food, toys, books, education and everything he could possibly need or desire. Then, one day, the child disappears to come back only at night with a woman, a former prisoner who abandoned him at his birth. He stops recognizing you as his mother and he chose that from then on, his mother will be her. You try to reason as an adult person with the woman, try to make her understand how destabilizing it could be for a child on the verge of his teens to have two mothers going around, one of which had never cared about him, try to make her understand that the child has everything he needs and doesn't need anything else. But, unfortunately for your, the woman thinks with a mind at least ten years younger than yours and doesn't listen to you."  
"It hasn't been like this. There has been a reason why..."  
But Regina didn't let her go on, staring at her straight in the eyes and setting up one of the most serious and authoritative voices of hers.   
"She sets in your city, she starts to secretly meet your son and to involve him in quite dangerous affairs, while suddenly tragedies and mysterious events start to happen. Your son even risks his life, for an extremely dangerous action caused by false convictions from which a therapist is trying to free him..."  
"And how the hell am I connected with all of this?"   
Regina ignored her again.  
"...and everybody in town seems to go head over heels for the just appeared woman, even arriving to name her sheriff and making you lose the faith you had before in the police, after the previous, honest sheriff mysteriously died while he was alone with the woman..."  
"Stop it."  
"...in all of this, you keep seeing your son run away from his house with her, turning his back on you, not listening to your good advices, putting himself at risk again and again, choosing her company..."  
"I told you to stop it..."  
"...and you find yourself fearing, more than anything else, the day when that woman will abandon him again and he, with his young, broken, heart, will come back to you in tears, filled with a pain that you will have to soothe, filled with problems that you will have to solve, and with a premature delusion and consciousness of people's evilness, which will have ruined his childhood forever..."  
"I told you to stop it!"   
It was too much. Emma couldn't handle herself. She gripped the wrist Regina was keeping up while she spoke, and pushed her against the fireplace, blocking her with her own body, without touching hers though, and stared furiously at her, just a few centimeters from her.   
There was wonder in her eyes, for a moment, soon replaced with a lighten of amusement and a mocking grin, which curled slightly at the corners of her lips, which Emma couldn't stand.  
"You have no right to..." she said, hissing.   
"Really? Speaking honestly, I think I always had, Miss Swan..."   
Goddess, that way she always addressed her, soaked in hateful haughtiness and marked by formality.   
Goddess, those lips almost brushing against hers, darkly dyed and marked by that delicious scar.   
She hated her face, she hated her voice, the way in which she felt it seeping into her stomach and reverberating into her bones.   
She stopped a moment too long, staring at her when she grinned, thinking again about the moment when she had faced her, after destroying the tree she was so proud of. Regina had had that same expression, and Emma felt herself being caught by that same, devouring desire she had had then, of erasing that expression from her face.  
Of showing her what she was capable of.   
She hated her certainty of always having gotten it won; she hated the power she didn't ever stop to show off, her presumption.  
She hated every part of her.  
"Do you think that going against the mayor will benefit your career? "  
She wanted every part of her.   
Emma was the one who grinned then.  
"Actually, I'm already against the mayor."  
Regina raised her eyebrows.   
"And is this all you're capable off, Sheriff Swan?"  
No.   
Goddess no.   
She could have ripped the lipstick from her mouth, the lies and all the empty words, which she filled it with.   
She could have ripped the clothes from her body, the armors and all the layers of perfection, which she covered it with.  
She would have done it, oh, if she would have done it, having her warmth so intense and close enough to burn her, but...  
But...  
She took a step back, setting her free.  
"Differently from you, I don't need to show you what I'm really capable of."  
She looked to be astonished, maybe even...irritated, by that change.   
"No? Still, you seemed pretty determined when you explained it to me."  
Emma smiled.  
"Whatever you may say, I love Henry, I would never hurt him, and I don't intend to leave him, if this would break his heart."   
"It's obvious that this would break his heart. In case you haven't noticed it, he is pretty fond of you. "  
Emma tore away her gaze and lowered her voice.  
"I know...I mean I won't do it, not even for his good, if I won't be sure he is happy."  
The dark-haired one hinted a smile.  
"Admirable for you to change your mind after ten years..."  
"I've always done it for his happiness..."  
"Exactly. Do not ruin such a sacrifice."  
Emma didn't answer.   
Maybe she was right about all the "put yourself in my shoes" thing. Maybe. But she had not killed Graham.  
"I didn't kill Graham, if this is what you were alluding to."   
She made a gesture with her head.  
"Of course, not. And you hadn't saved me from the fire at the town hall just to be seen as a heroine."  
"Of course, not!" she uttered, outraged.  
Regina smiled bitterly, reaching again for the small table of cider and pouring herself another glass.  
"Miss Swan...after all, you said it, no one would ever save me if it wasn't for his own interest."   
Those words struck her and left her for a moment without an answer.  
There it was again, that hurt gaze. The panther's deceit.  
What a shame it was so difficult to discern, even by her, despite her superpower, all of her lies.  
It was true though; she had thought about it.  
"Maybe, but not me."  
She believed she caught a glimpse of sincere wonder in her eyes, before concealing it again behind her shield of irony, while moving the glass closer to her lips.  
"Of course, not."  
"Regina, I'm serious. I would never do it just for that. I mean...sure, there are...contrasts between us, but..."   
Regina laughed, still avoiding her gaze. "Contrasts? I hate you, Miss Swan"  
And she would have answered that she hated her too, but for some strange reason in that moment, she really didn't feel like doing it. She didn't even think about it.  
"...but I would never let you die for this."  
Finally, Regina looked at her. She set her dark eyes on her, opening their magnetic depths, suddenly, flooring her, just to hardly close them right after that.   
"If you think you can impress me or... get in good graces with me, you're late."   
"I don't..."  
"You should go now, and remain as far as possible from me and my son and even from my town.  
Even if you belong to that kind of people, who once started to climb their "career ladder", however short it may be, don't quit easily"  
That was enough to make Emma frown again  
"What do you mean?"  
And there it was again, that scornful expression, that hate, that arrogance...  
"Now you've become sheriff, what will you strive for the next time? To become mayor? Don't stress yourself because I can assure you it won't happen."  
Emma grinned. She would never want to become mayor, but she might as well challenge her.  
"Do you think? Because I'm not so sure about it. I'm already the sheriff. When things start to change here and people stop fearing your tyranny, we will see."   
Regina grinned too, aroused by the challenge. Because it went like this between them; maybe it would always. They were fire and gasoline, trying to devour each other.  
She took a few steps towards her, taking another sip of cider. Then, almost indifferently, she bowed slightly to lay the glass on the coffee table between the two sofas.  
She then absently fixed her hair, straightening her back, with a slowness that was wearing out Emma's nerves while she waited for her answer.  
While she was charmed by her beauty.  
She was taking it slow; she had understood which was the perfect weapon against her impetuosity.  
And goddess if she knew how to drive her mad.  
"Miss Swan..." she started, choosing her words so carefully to give her the impression she was tasting them on her tongue.  
"...do you know why sheriff Graham did everything I wanted him to do?"  
Emma swiftly wetted her lips, seeing her getting closer.  
"Because you slept with him?"  
Her lips stretched out in an amused smile, almost in hint of laughter, showing her white sparkling teeth in contrast with the dark lipstick.   
"Well, that, had its advantages, but...mainly because Storybrooke is my town, he was its sheriff, so..." she smirked, "...he was my sheriff."  
Emma raised her eyebrows, eyes locked to hers, smiling in turn.  
"You can't corrupt me as you did with Graham" she resolutely said, but Regina take another step which brought her to a paltry distance from her, and Emma suddenly noticed she was out of breath without having done any effort.  
"No?"   
She raised a hand and brought it to the collar of her leather jacket, the usual one, the red one, caressing its surface in a slow and more-than-calculated motion. She raised her eyes again to meet Emma's.   
"I believe I can. "   
Emma's mind had already gone short-circuited by then. And she was trying to fix it, following all the possible cables which could give her the right impulse to put distance between them, but in that moment, it simply seemed to be the most difficult thing in the world.   
-What would be so wrong with that?- a voice whispered to her. -Which values do you have to demonstrate? To whom? What pride?- probably no more, or maybe all that was left of it.   
She released that breath kept back for long and hinted a smile, laying her hand on hers and squeezing it slightly. It was cool, soft, thin...  
Regina slightly unsealed her lips, almost involuntarily staring at her, and it caused a malicious wave of warmth in Emma's body, asking her for an even bigger effort.  
But in the end, she succeeded in moving that hand away from herself and in taking a step further back.  
"Keep on deluding yourself."  
She let go of her hand and turned, going towards the door, because she knew that if she had looked one moment longer at the moment she was leaving behind her back, she would not have restrained herself. And she had almost done it; she was almost out of her reach, out of her intoxicating aura, when she suddenly had to stop.  
Her voice was calling her, peremptory, full of anger.   
"Miss Swan!"  
It was not a calling, actually. It was an order. And Emma executed it.   
She stopped but she didn't turn, while the air was sizzling on her face.  
She must have really angered her, and much so. She had rejected her; she had terribly hurt her pride.   
She had no idea what Regina could do then.   
And just a few seconds passed before she felt herself being grabbed and roughly turned, then pushed into the wall. So few, that she barely saw her getting closer before finding her on herself.   
Something warm on the lips, hers.  
Something soft keeping her still, her body. It turned off her brain.  
She pounced on her like she had just done, clawing her sides and devouring her lips.  
The idea to stop her didn't even cross her mind.   
But she couldn't let her win physically also, because she was already granting her victory in validating her power, so she pushed her in turn against the wall, asking herself no more questions.  
And goddess, Regina was heaven and hell reunited in only one body.  
A demon dressed as an angel, who would bring her slowly to her damnation.   
But in that moment, it didn't matter to Emma.  
She left her lips just to pull her hair aside to free her neck without ceremony and attacking it like a vampire would have, biting her flesh to savor her taste.   
Soon, as soon as possible, she couldn't wait any longer.  
In that moment she understood she had been fighting for an impossible reason; they both knew perfectly well, they probably had always known since that first encounter that it would end this way.   
They had tried to provoke each other, circling, sniffing and growling like two wild beasts ready to attack; they had tried to deceive themselves with the groundless belief that they were able to repress their most primal instinct, but it all had always been useless.   
After all, there was a reason why Emma Swan was still around, and that reason was Regina Mills.   
And there was a reason Emma found herself always hovering around Regina, and that reason was her intolerable temper, which knew how to satisfy her want for fierce fights with all the challenges it throw down to her, and her extraordinary beauty, magnetic and irresistible.  
She stopped to look at her, to look at the mess she had made of her, half-closed eyes, smeared lipstick, the hair finally deprived of its perfect style, the high-priced dress hanging down her shoulder and full of wrinkles, the panting chest, beating while searching for freedom from that prison of cloth, the flushed skin, her marks.  
Emma grinned at the threatening glance she gave her as soon as she opened her eyes, but then it was Regina to draw her closer to her again, removing her jacket, throwing it who knows where, her precious leather jacket, which she had always cared so much about and which suddenly, she didn't care at all about.   
So taken by her lips, she barely noticed her hands already busied with her jeans. She glanced at them and the sight sent another wave of adrenaline through her body.  
"Are you in a hurry, Madame Mayor?" she barely whispered, her voice detained by arousal.  
Emma grabbed her wrists and spun her, pushing her front against the wall, as incoherent verses left the both of their mouths.  
She pulled her hair away and bit her neck again, her shoulder, pulling violently at the zip of her dress, probably tearing it, making it slip away with the blind aim of undressing her of her perfection and of her haughty regality, which sent her out of her head.  
She wanted to remove the mayor and leave just the woman, made of flesh and blood.  
She tightened her body between her arms, voluntarily scratching her belly, and she heard her moaning, while struggling.  
Regina won, in the end, and turning around, she pushed her on the ground with no mercy at all, on the carpet, a breath away from the coffee table she was lucky enough to avoid.   
And even like this, standing in front of her, without heels and half naked, she was able to exercise her authority, imposing her prominence as shield and weapon, and there, Emma understood that undressing her would not be enough to make her fragile; she would have to destroy her, to make her addicted before it would be herself to become the one addicted.  
Regina took a breath to enjoy that temporary victory, paralyzing her in place with chains of red-hot lust, which arose from reflections in her eyes.  
This made Emma fear for a moment that she would pull herself back, leaving her like this, maybe also accusing her, and not because she would be regretful, but just in order to win with one sadistic-to-death game of hers.   
But it wasn't like this, because that lust chained Regina too. And when it burst in her body's hell, it pulled her down with it, on her, searching for revenge among the useless cloths, that vanished in a short time.   
That was enough for Emma to start fighting again, biting and scratching.  
It didn't take long for them to lose their humanity, victims and masters of that beastly instinct let free.  
And they didn't stop doing what they always did, struggling, clung to each other among shreds of destroyed clothes. They didn't stop fighting, trying to prevail on the other, feeding themselves of the atonement they had searched for a long time, finding someone to accuse for their mistakes of fragile women and someone to show their strength of survivors to.  
They were a scenario of destruction, careless about damages, surfaces and positions, but they found a new breath of life.  
And they found it in bodies capable of surprising the both of them, in an unexpected beauty which they let themselves freely and ecstatically fall in, losing control of their own desire to control.   
They would have torn away that skin, if they hadn't been so charmed by it; they would have burned that flesh, if it hadn't already been skimmed by the flame of its own desire.  
Instead, they let themselves drown in an ocean of screams and panting, unconsciously trying to reach that small and far sparkle on the bottom, which twinkled in their eyes just for a moment of infinity, fleeting like a star, fallen like the angels they had in their hearts.

And yes, maybe it meant nothing, Emma thought, lying exhausted on the floor, with the scent of Regina's body and hair intoxicating her and making her eyes water, but that was the first time in forever in which she felt she had achieved equality in that game of vengeful soul of theirs.   
The first time in forever in which she felt on her same level: down, on the floor.


	4. Bittersweet

Present day, New York 

Henry was right; she couldn't help always expecting things to go wrong. For this reason, walking through the long hallway of the fourth floor of that pretty rickety building, almost in the same neighborhood as hers, she kept her hand wrapped around the gun hidden in her coat's pocket, ready to take it out.  
She had gotten it many years before, "just in case", she had told herself, to protect Henry from any threat or maybe just from a past life which she had never succeeded in freeing herself of. She feared something from it could turn up at her door at any moment demanding to get the check from her.  
Yeah, a peacefulness like the one she was living in wasn't allowed to people like her, she had always knew this, and part of her had never stopped believing that it could be just an illusion.   
And after all, she hadn't been wrong.  
Her past life really had showed up knocking on her door, through that strange guy who had heavily insisted that she had to go there, 89 Wooster Street, apartment number 407.

And maybe Henry was right about another thing too; she should be worrying about Walsh and his proposal, about the decision she had promised him to make, not about all of the nonsense, which suddenly had seeped into her life arrogantly.   
She had decided to go to that address without a damn reason, just because she couldn't stop thinking back to the conversation she had had with that man and the address he had given her, like a broken record, repeating endlessly.   
And because she had dreamt about Regina, the night before.   
She was another Regina, a different Regina, under some aspects. She had talked with her, gosh she had even...done things with her in that dream, but...she had felt something different than what she remembered feeling with her in the past, when she had really been near her.   
She had felt a strange kind of hate towards her, which resembled the one she had felt when she had just met her, when she still wanted to keep Henry all for herself, but at the same time, it was mixed with love perhaps, surely with passion.  
Those feelings had been so strong and had seem so true, just as they were reminders from something she had truly felt, to the point that they had left her deeply shaken.   
And after that, the thought that Regina could be involved with all of this, never left her, tugging at her brain constantly and becoming unbearable. 

The night before, she had decided to investigate and she knew she was also pretty good at it, but right then she wasn't sure that going into the lion's den was the best way to do it.   
And she was becoming less and less sure as she got closer to the apartment number 407.  
Maybe she was really starting to regret coming there, but after all she had already given in; she might as well risk it.  
She wouldn't pass as a coward.   
She tried to opening the door but it was locked.  
Obviously.  
She took a deep breath and glanced around her to be sure that no one was watching her.   
Then, she pulled out the picklock, which she started working with. She was very handy with it, surely it wasn't the first time for her, and she succeeded in a short time.   
It has been Neal to teach her.  
She kicked away that thought, back in the depths it had come to light from, and quickly entered before being seen, closing the door behind her. 

The apartment was empty, or at least it seemed.   
Judging by the dust lying around, it must have been empty for a long time.  
The light faintly peered in it, but she didn't bother to turn on the light in the ceiling, wanting to change as little as possible in that place.   
Maybe it was a crime scene, and that man had sent her there to frame her.   
No corpse smell, though; it was a good sign.   
She forced herself to concentrate and to dedicate herself to her original mission: finding clues as to what that man really wanted from her and, possibly, to frame him. So, she started looking around.  
But it didn't take long before her attention was caught by the small window on the wall in front of her, or better, by the dream catcher hanging above it.  
She stared at it, getting closer. It was big, of a faint yellow. As soon as she brushed it with her fingers, vivid memories come back to her mind. She took it.  
"Flypaper for nightmares..." she whispered. A thought hit her:"...Neal..."  
And it really hit her, because to be honest, until then, the idea that he could be involved had not even crossed her mind. She snorted to herself for that exaggerated indulgence she kept on having towards him.   
Pathetic, just pathetic.   
But now she needed confirmations. She needed something concrete in that sea of assumptions, so she grabbed some never opened envelopes lying on the coffee table.   
Neal Cassidy.  
There was the confirmation she needed.  
She threw them away almost angrily.   
How dare he!  
How the hell did he dare to break into her life, into their life, again?   
Then she saw something certainly more macabre.On the couch laid a cloth with a huge stain of something that Emma judged as dry blood at a first sight.   
Damn it!  
Her hand instinctively came back holding the gun.  
In what kind of trouble had Neal gotten himself into? In what kind of trouble was she getting herself into?  
But then she saw something, something that made all the rest, even that cloth stained with blood, an unimportant detail.   
She got closer with caution, almost sure that discovering its meaning would turn her life upside down once again.   
There was a camera, in that house. A camera she had already seen, a long time before.  
She grabbed it with trembling hands.   
And in that moment, she understood that that man wasn't crazy, and that her, Henry and Regina were all in danger.   
There was a name on the red, brown and green shoulder strap of that camera well known to her, her son's name.  
"That's not possible..."  
No, it wasn't impossible, it was terrible.   
\---

Twelve years ago, Phoenix

"Stand still this way!"  
Emma radiantly smiled to the lens, cradling Henry who was smiling too, while looking at the camera, oddly. There were not many times when they succeeded in taking picture of him facing the camera, so that one must really be a lucky day -Emma thought.   
And it had to be; it was her son's first birthday. For her, it was a more-than-lucky day.   
She had the luck of having a beautiful and perfect baby boy, she had the luck of being able to be next to him on his first birthday, as at first, she had thought she would have never been able to do so, and she had the luck to not have to be alone.   
There was someone now, with her, making that day even more special, and that someone was spontaneously smiling behind the camera right in that moment.   
"Finally, the little man is deigning us of a gaze, mh?" she said, with such a sweetness in her voice that Emma's heart ached.   
She so desired, in her life, to hear such a tone being used towards herself. Now, knowing that her son had that chance, made her more than happy.   
Not that she wasn't as sweet towards him, or that she didn't try to be, of course not, but with Regina it was different.  
Regina was the perfect mother, in her opinion.   
She always made sure that everything was alright, that Henry felt good, that the two of them didn't miss anything, and even that the smallest things were done in the best way, if they were for him.   
Sometimes Emma wondered if Regina hadn't adopted both of them, in some way.   
But Regina wasn't a mother to her, no, she was...something.   
Even if months had passed since that first kiss, she still didn't know how to define her.  
There had been other kisses; there had been a soft and almost fearful affection of brushing lips, held back sighs and hinted caresses. Emma didn't want to touch her, to keep her too tight, to believe too much in that dimension of bright happiness her life had turned into, despite all the difficulties, because she feared that if she had owned it too much, it would have vanished as every good thing in her life had done, and Regina with her. And Emma didn't want to lose Regina, in any way.  
For the first time, she felt young, free and responsible at the same time, and it was amazing.   
Regina was turning her, day after day, into the woman who her life, and especially Henry, was asking her to be, and she was doing it in the easiest and sweetest way: giving everything she needed to her first of all.  
She had never felt worthy before, so she hadn't ever thought she could be useful to herself and others.   
And sure, Emma couldn't help asking herself if many of the things Regina did weren't just in name of kindness, because, c'mon, after all, she kept on being a lost girl, an idiot in many cases and absolutely nothing comparable to Regina Mills. Despite this, though, she was able to catch a glimpse of a light in her eyes, in some of the moments made just for the two of them.  
It didn't happen often, most of the time those moments happened when it was dark, and the world was silent and for some instants, it seemed to belong just to them, but when she saw that sparkle running through her eyes, she was sure Regina would be able to burn down everything with just her gaze.   
She looked powerful to her, more powerful than anything else. And there was nothing she was prouder of than being able to witness to that.   
And there was also a very, very little, arrogant part of herself, which started to whisper to her that maybe, maybe, she might even be the cause of that sparkle.   
But it was too soon to listen to it, and she would have never asked Regina about it, so she just stared at her, falling deeper and deeper in the chasm that woman was digging in her heart day after day. 

Regina smiled, showing her the picture just taken on the small screen of the camera.  
"It turned out very good."  
Emma looked at the picture; it was true, it was beautiful, but it missed something.  
She took the camera from her hands without giving her time to retort and reached the other side of the table.  
"Go there."  
Regina glared at her for a moment, but then she did it, continuing to throw her suspicious glances, while Emma bustled about the buttons, until she found the function she was searching for.   
She set the self-timer and hurried to reach them.  
The camera took the photo with a loud shoot, after about ten seconds, while them tightened to one another and smiled, and Emma was curious to see what would have appeared in the picture if it had immortalized her heart in that moment, when Regina had tightened to her side, while Emma's arm circled her waist, slightly brushing it.   
She moved away and got the device back, smiling before their image. She looked at Regina.  
"Now it's complete!"  
And after just a second, a pure and sincere smile started to widen more and more on the dark-pink lips of Regina, filling Emma's heart with contagious happiness and her mind of the consciousness that Regina was really beautiful.   
And maybe those same lips were about to say something, something beautiful and dangerous, something fragile and strong, but Henry broke that moment before they could do it, summoning impatiently their attention and visibly aiming to the cake with his little chubby fingers.  
"Mom!" he screamed happy, fidgeting in his highchair.

He had started talking not long before, and Emma would never forget the first time he had spoken that word, his first word: mom.  
It had been during a quiet afternoon, just a couple of months before.  
She had just come back from her shift in the shop and had found Regina waiting in her house with Henry. They already shared their house indifferently by then, and both had the key of the other one's house. Yes, maybe it was a bit too soon, but it made their lives easier, allowing them to have wonderful surprises, such as finding the two people she cared the most about in the world waiting for her after work.  
She wouldn't give that away for any reason.  
In the fateful moment, it had been Regina who was holding Henry in her arms, playing with him and filling Emma's kitchen with enjoyable small laughter and little screams.  
Emma couldn't stop smiling thanks to them, as she dedicated herself to her daily search for a better paid job.   
Suddenly, when neither of them expected it at all, that word had slipped out of his lips clear and fluid.   
"Mom" he said, bursting out laughing after a moment, like he wanted to celebrate his first, great victory.  
Regina had been left motionless and speechless, overwhelmed by emotions. Emma was nearly overwhelmed herself, turning abruptly to look at them with the most tender and idiotic smile she had ever had on her lips.   
"He really said it?" she asked, just to be sure she had not dreamt it.  
It had taken a few seconds for the other to answer, swallowing and nodding slowly, with a faint voice  
"He really said it..."  
And something else had overwhelmed Emma, looking at her on her couch, on the verge of tears and with a love she couldn't describe in her eyes.   
She had abruptly stood up and reached her, just to kneel near her and draw her face near.  
She caught her lips for a passionate and sweet kiss. Then she distanced herself from her, fearful of finding anger on her face; instead, she had found surprise and happiness, more than she had expected.   
But soon their attention had come back to the baby, overwhelming him with kisses and caresses, because that had been a great victory for them also.   
And yes, after a bit, he had also called Emma "mom", but for some reason, it hadn't seemed right like it had that first time. 

She smiled at the memory, reaching her son to give him the cake he desired so much. But he didn't seem to be such a patient child, so he plunged a finger in the cream which covered the borders, putting it in his mouth tastefully right after. This, made Emma laugh, while Regina extorted a scandalized rebuke.  
"Henry! You can't do it!" even if she had been smiling all the while.  
And Henry had reasons to be impatient: the cake, baked by Regina, was really good, and Emma couldn't help taking a second slice. And a third.  
"Miss Swan!" she exclaimed, looking disapprovingly at her, actually hiding in her eyes joy and satisfaction.   
Emma innocently looked at her.  
"What? It's super tasty!" she took a finger, putting it in the cream of her own slice, and bringing the icing to her lips.  
Regina shook her head, "like mother like son, it doesn't surprise me..."  
"Mh, does it mean that you think I'm cute as Henry?" she asked, smiling.  
Regina laughed.  
"That will never happen" she hugged Henry slightly, "no one will ever be as cute as Henry."  
She kissed him on his cheek, making him giggle and Emma smiled.  
"Do you think?"  
"I'm sure."   
Regina was really special with children. No, Regina was special overall.   
Emma kept eating her cake, lost in that sweet thought, when she heard her add something.  
"But sometimes you are cute too."  
The blonde turned to look at her surprised, with the cake still in her mouth and probably some icing on her lips, but she couldn't help smiling, feeling her heart getting warm at that simple statement.   
Regina really had great power over her, and that quietly scared her, because she was allowing her to have it, as she had done in the past with someone else, and it hadn't ended up well.   
But when that same smile caressed also Regina's lips, it was enough to erase everything else. She just couldn't help falling in that delicious trap of hers every time.   
"Thanks" she said faintly after swallowing down the bite.   
"For what?"  
"For this. For...making this day special."  
"It's not me, I..."  
"No, Regina." Emma stopped her, laying a hand on her arm.  
"One year ago, I was...terrified, to say the least. I didn't believe I would ever be able to raise him, to make him happy, and I had no idea what I would have done once I came out of there. Actually...I gave him to foster care for the same reason. I would never leave him, but...I wasn't sure I would be able to..."   
she watched Henry playing with some crumbles and a faint smile returned on her lips.  
"...be the mother he deserves. And I'm probably not, but..." she looked back into her eyes, fixed and focused on her, almost...aching at her words.   
"...but surely I wouldn't have been able to do it without you."   
Regina silently stared at her, making her regret at once opening up. Maybe it was too much for her. Maybe she was saddling her with a too big responsibility, after all she had actually adopted Henry, not her.  
But after a few seconds, Regina smiled lightly and cleared her throat before speaking. But she didn't answer.  
"I have a gift for you" she said instead, and Emma chose to put aside every other consideration in order to avoid further damages. She looked at her surprised.  
"For me? Why?"  
"Because today, it's not only his celebration, it's also yours. One year ago, you gave life to an amazing creature and I think it should celebrated"  
Emma flushed and lowered her gaze.  
Regina stood up, reaching a package in the corner of the room which Emma hadn't noticed until then.   
It was rectangular, wrapped in light green paper with a huge yellow bow, such an unusual couple of colors for Regina Mills.  
When she handed it to her, Emma looked at her astonished and amused.  
"How ever such bright colors, Ms. 'if it's not black it's not elegant'?" she asked with a grin.  
Provoking her had recently become a very pleasant habit, more or less since she had discovered that, differently from how she would have done with anybody else who would dare (and they were not many), Regina didn't get angry for real and didn't kick her away when she did it.   
She saw her staring at the package with an almost disgusted grimace sitting down again.  
"The package is for you Miss Swan; it doesn't need to be elegant. Moreover, you are not."   
Surely Emma was not compared to her, who wore a blue tube dress . A tube dress, which made Emma's head spin every time she saw the way in which it wrapped her body.  
But despite the cold tone displayed, Emma caught the mocking note at the bottom.  
"I know you liked these colors." Regina told in fact right after, almost sweetly.   
She smiled.  
"Thank you" she said, starting to tear away the paper.   
After the layer of wrapping paper, there was a box, and inside it, a big book with a brown leather cover.  
A strange book.   
On the front stood out in golden types the writing, "Once upon a time", which Emma think it was a fairytale book for Henry.  
"Thanks" she started saying at once, "it is..."  
But when she opened it, she was left speechless.   
There were some pictures on the first pages, pictures of her son, small as she had never seen him. They were glued to the pages and matched with elegant black writing, which explained each of them: when, where and why it had been taken.   
Of course, Regina had told her about Henry's first months, but she never had so many details about them. She kept looking through it, contemplating every picture almost with adoration, caressing each of them with the tip of her fingers, until she reached a blank page, as were all the ones which followed.   
Just then, she looked up and raised her watery eyes on Regina, who was still expectantly looking at her.  
She knew she was smiling, still she wasn't able to say a word.  
Regina looked somehow insecure to Emma's surprise, but was the one who talked first.  
"It's a photo album, since you...we, have taken a lot of photos of Henry in the last months, and I had these other ones, and I guess we...will take many others in the future. I thought you needed a place to keep them, so.." she vaguely gestured towards the album, falling silent.   
And there, Emma felt tears threatening to fall, but she didn't care about it and merely widened her smile before throwing her arms around Regina's neck, hugging her tight. She was trying to make her understand in that wordless way what that gift meant to her.  
In the warmth of her embrace and in the soft sound of the music coming from the radio, which almost magically surrounded them, she kept on hearing her words in her head.  
"I guess we will take many others in the future"   
It seemed like her first promise of stability.   
Neal had been good, at the beginning, faithful, but he had never meant stability for her. He couldn't have, not with the kind of life they lived, always running away. Still, stability was all that Emma had always searched for. And in that moment for the first time, she started to believe she had found it.   
She closed her eyes, finally allowing a few tears to fall, while Regina, left startled in the first moment, returned the embrace.   
She breathed in her hair's scent, which dangerously reminded her of a warm and comfortable place she feared to name, and hoped that hug was enough to make her hear that secret whisper of her heart which prayed she was not going away.   
She could have stayed like that forever, but when she thought it was enough for Regina, she distanced herself.   
She had started to know her; she had learnt to interpret those minimal expressions on her face, those minimal motions of her fingers, which said much more than her lips did. But while her look was always perfectly well-groomed and apparently imperturbable, Regina wasn't like that on the inside, and Emma knew it. Behind the cold appearance, Regina had a warm and beating heart, which felt much more than most other people did, maybe even more than her own.   
And it was a fragile heart, which needed time, as Regina herself had needed to open up, even slightly, with her, and it needed space, the thing that Emma always tried to keep in mind even if often it was difficult to do. Regina's proximity was intoxicating, her essence was a mystic haze capable of overwhelming her and letting her wander inside of it, trapped and ecstatically lost in what seemed a sweet dream to her mind.   
So, she looked at her, regaining the lost words, and smiled widely this time: "Thank you. It's an amazing gift"  
Regina was smiling in turn, maybe that reflection of light that Emma saw in her gaze, which looked like a beginning of a tear, was just an illusion.   
"There is something else in the box" she said, and Emma took it back, looking curiously inside of it.  
There was there a long strip of brown leather with a colored pattern and a tag with the name "Henry" on it.   
"What's this?" she asked, even if Regina would have probably thought she was a total idiot.   
But she didn't answer. Instead, she turned and, stretching out, regained her camera from the near piece of furniture. She bustled about the old black shoulder strap, removing it a moment later, to take then the weird strip of leather from Emma's hands and replacing with it the removed shoulder strap.   
Emma stared, perplexed for a long time, until she put the renewed camera in her now empty hands. "Regina..."  
She didn't let her finish.  
"No, that's not for you. It's for Henry. He deserves to have decent pictures and surely the ones you take with that...subspecies of a camera you have in your house are not. I don't have a reason to use it if not for him. Take it, you two will use it much more than me. "  
Emma felt obliged to contest. She didn't even know how damn much that camera cost!   
"But...you could take them when..."  
Regina silenced her, laying her hands on hers and closing her fingers on the device.  
"No. I said you take it. I can buy myself another one whenever I want."  
Yeah, it was true, she could buy another one whenever she wanted. She could buy whatever she wanted, for her but especially for Henry, every time she needed it.  
Suddenly, Emma felt herself being drenched in shame, because she would never have the opportunity to give Henry everything he would ask for, not until she would find another job.  
Perhaps she wasn't able to find it, while Regina was so perfect that...  
She lowered her gaze. She had never searched for mercy, and she didn't want Regina to even think about it, and not because she would hold it against her one day, but because...she wanted only what was true and unconditional from her.  
However, Regina must have noticed her mistake, because she spoke worriedly all of a sudden.  
"No Emma, I...didn't mean that. I just meant you don't have to worry about the value, I want that..." she intertwined her hands with Emma's, amazing her.   
It was rare that she let herself spontaneously have displays of affection, even more rare to hear her talk like this, with the urgency of explaining herself, of making her understand what she meant; usually, she didn't care about the other's thought.   
"...I want you both to have anything you could possibly need and...and I think you need to keep these memories because...because nothing stays the same, these days will pass, his childhood will be gone one day but...but in this way at least part of it will always be with you."   
Emma stared at her silently for a long time. It really meant something if Regina, usually of few words, was opening up so much. And then, before such an explanation...  
She smiled, but not really.  
"Ok, thanks." she just said. She dared to kiss her cheek and she stood up, almost running away from her, going to lay both her gifts in a safer place.  
Leaving the camera there, her gaze fell on the shoulder strap with Henry's name. That gift was for him, those memories should have been for him, one day...  
With the corner of her eye, she saw Regina sending her a worried glance because that sudden escape must have been weird. But she hadn't been able to hold herself back, because a grip of fear had tightened in her. A deep and terrible fear, not a stranger to her, but that she wished she wouldn't have to feel ever again.   
It was the fear of remaining alone, of losing it all, of being abandoned again.  
In Regina's words, she had caught a sight of uncertainty, contrasting with that stability she had first thought she felt, a kind of sense of finitude, a threat that waited for them just behind the corner, to put an end to all they had built.   
Or that at least Emma thought they had built, because in that instant it had looked like Regina didn't believe in that, not really.  
Believing that it couldn't last was a bit like believing it had never started, wasn't it?  
She swallowed, forcing herself to push away those stupid thoughts. It must have been her, to have misunderstood. It must have been her to be a constant victim of those old fears, that for the age she was, she should have already left behind.   
Maybe it was just her who was "finding hard to believe she was in heaven", just like the song played on the radio was saying.  
She turned towards Regina and Henry, seeing them playing together, and smiled.  
Yeah, it must have been her...   
\---  
Present day, New York

She was marching towards Central Park. She was angry, no, she was furious.   
How the hell did Neal dare to come back into her life, in this way, after thirteen years and a desertion in the moment when she had needed him most?   
How did he dare to get her stalked by that madman, putting their safety at risk?   
What damn rights did he think he had?  
She wondered if that arrest warrant they had put out after her deposition against him was still on the table after all those years.  
In that case, the police she had called a few minutes before would be useful again soon, because there were no way she was going to leave him on the loose, knowing he was in the city, putting her son at risk.   
And she wouldn't even leave that maniac, who with no doubts had to collaborate with him, on the loose. For this reason she had warned the police about his presence in the park and about their next meeting.   
A harasser, she had defined him, and she didn't think she had overstated.   
She tried to slow down her pace, in order to not make him suspicious and run away, even if she doubted he was so smart; it wasn't easy, she felt the need to run to regain her hardly-reached tranquility they were ripping away from her.  
And actually, she also felt the need of unload herself against something or someone.   
-Maybe I could punch him, before he gets arrested. It would be self-defense..."-   
she thought, but then hurried herself to change her mind. A legal recall was the last thing she needed in that moment. 

She noticed to have reached the entrance of the zoo and soon she saw him there, waiting for her.   
He was really crazy.   
"Swan! I knew that'd work. It's good to see you again."  
She barely repressed the instinct to react, getting closer.  
"Why didn't you tell me that was Neal's place?"  
He looked at her for a moment.  
She hated that constantly mocking expression on his face, that conviction of always being a step ahead, which took shape in that distorted grin.  
"I think the tone of your voice answers that quite clearly. You never would gone if I had."  
But Emma was really too tired to keep on waiting. And very angry too.  
"What does Neal have you up to? Is he trying to get into Henry's life? How does he even know about him?"  
"I already told you, I'm not here because of Neal..."  
But Emma didn't let him go on.  
"Well, because after having left me paying for his crimes when I was pregnant with his son, after taking advantage of me as long as it was convenient, getting rid of me as soon as things started to go bad and he needed a cover, after having left me alone to face hellish years, he can't absolutely take the liberty of doing it!"  
She was shouting, and a weird twitching in her eyes warned her, as an alarm ring, of tears which threatened to slip away from the green of her eyes, but she couldn't allow herself to seem weak, even if those were tears of rage.   
She couldn't allow herself to cry in front of him, not even for herself.   
She didn't even know why she was telling him all of those things when she should have just kicked him away, but she needed to unload herself; she needed to yell at someone, and he looked like the right target to do it.   
"He didn't leave you...gosh, you ladies..."  
She believed she could burst out right in that moment, "how the hell do you dare to tell me what he had or hadn't done, mh?" she pushed him away, feeling about to lose self-control.   
"How the hell do you dare?"  
He took a step back raising his hands.  
"No, listen. Maybe I don't even know him, maybe..."  
Emma laughed bitterly. "No, you have already admitted it, you betrayed yourself!"   
It was her then to take a step towards him, grabbing his jacket collar.   
Her eyes were sparkling, like a fuse about to explode  
"Now you listen! Look at me and tell me exactly what the hell you want from us. I want answers. Real ones."  
He took a deep breath, looking around them to cross her eyes again.  
"I've already told you , but you don't want to believe me! Your parents are in trouble, you're the only one who can save them! Their entire kingdom had been cursed. Ripped back to Storybrooke."  
Emma slapped him in the face letting him go.  
"Hey!" he brought his hand to the hit cheek, putting that disgusting grin on again only a second after.  
"We are hot-blooded today, Swan."  
To be honest, Emma thought, he should have just been thankful for the near presence of the police, otherwise she would have been unscrupulously breaking that smile forever.  
"Stop talking gibberish! My parents? Their kingdom? A curse? Do you know what you sound like?"  
He lowered his gaze, just like he was realizing it only then.  
"Like a madman. I'm sure. But...it's true. If you don't believe me at all, why did you come here?"  
She growled, pulling out of her sack the camera found at Neal's place.  
"Because Neal has a camera with my son's name on it, a camera which should have been destroyed in the fire in Boston! How?"  
His eyes seemed to revive.  
"Don't you see? That is proof of what I'm saying! Henry must have left that in the apartment when you were in New York last year."  
She hated that he kept on lying so blatantly. And she hated he was saying her son's name.  
"Not good enough."   
He sighed, rolling his eyes.  
"There's only one way you'll get there."  
He extracted from the pocket of that peculiar coat a blue vial.  
"Drink this"  
And Emma had never been more conflicted about whether to call him a madman or a criminal than in that moment.  
"Drink the thing the crazy guy just offered me? No, thank you."  
"It will help you get back everything you've lost!"   
Emma laughed taking a step far from him.  
"Believe me, nothing could help me get back what I've lost..."  
But he couldn't give up, or even notice when the conversation took a turn, which touched her emotionally. Or maybe he just didn't care.  
"If one small part of you senses that, don't you owe it to yourself to find out if I'm right?"  
Emma sighed, not knowing what to say anymore.  
"Ok, just...if you still don't want to tell me the truth, just assure me that Regina is safe. I know you know her. I can't imagine what Neal is arranging, but you can answer me. When you talk to him again, just tell him he can face me directly, just me, if he needs it. But he has to leave her and Henry alone, ok?"   
He looked at her clearly surprised  
"Regina isn't in this, I already told you! I still can't understand why you remember her and not anyone else, when she is the one you need to worry about the least. What the hell did she put in your head? What do you remember?"  
Great, now he wanted to also get in her memories. Really great.  
Emma shook her head, she didn't mean to be part of that charade.   
"Why do you refuse to listen to me?" he asked her again. She looked straight in his eyes.  
"Because I had a life, a happy one, before you followed me around speaking nonsense and making me fear for the ones I care about! There is nothing to listen to! I don't owe you a goddamn thing!"  
"So Regina is one of the people you care about? Her?" he coldly asked.  
Emma, tired and annoyed, took a step further back, definitely this time, ready to call the police.  
"Alright, you wanted this..."  
"No, Swan!" she felt her arm being touched by something hard and she saw it was his fake hand.   
She fixed him with an icy stare.  
"Keep that away from me." she hissed.   
She would not hesitate to counter a threat, after all, she had a weapon right in her coat pocket.  
But, to her fortune, the man took a step back .  
"Please love! Take a leap of faith. Give it a go."  
But for Emma it was already enough. She extracted the handcuffs she had with her and locked one of them around his wrist, pushing him toward the bench.   
"Call me 'love' one more time, and you will lose the other hand."   
she simply said.   
"Swan, what are you doing?"   
In front of his astonished gaze, Emma locked the second handcuff too.  
"I'm making sure that you never bother my son or me again."  
She whistled and two cops came right in that moment from behind her, going on either side of the man.   
"That was the guy, the one who assaulted me."  
"That was a kiss!" he hurried to retort, still surprised by the situation.  
"There. He confessed"   
She put more distance between them while the cops started to tell him his rights, but he didn't look like he was hearing them. He was only watching her.   
"Swan, please. You're making a mistake! A terrible mistake!"   
But Emma really had enough of all that, and she didn't want to hear one more word. She would find a way to protect them from Neal by herself.  
She walked towards the exit of the park, but she couldn't help but listen to his last shouts.  
"Swan! Your family needs you!" 

She drank another sip of her coffee, her gaze lost in the traffic which flowed beyond the window.  
She had felt the need to relax her mind for a bit, and since Henry would have stayed with some friends until lunchtime, she had taken it slow, going in one of the places she preferred the most in all of New York city, her neighborhood's Starbucks.  
It was big, but at the same time snug, with its wooden walls and the stools in front of the big window, which allowed the patrons to contemplate the world in its constant movement, without having to be part of it. It was safe and extraordinarily relaxing, and it had seemed to be the right moment for one of its cinnamon donuts. Matched with chocolate coffee, of course.  
She looked at the donut wondering why people couldn't be as sweet and silent as it was; the world would have been a much better place. A world of donut-men, what a strange dream!  
Sure, there must have also been coffee-men in a world like that -she thought- following that irrational flux with the hope it would distract her. Maybe better, some coffee-women, able to wake you up from the lethargy, to give you adrenaline rushes. But they should have also had a drop of chocolate or two, to give them the inevitable sweetness.  
She stopped when she noticed that the subject was becoming a little too weird.  
Be damned the donut-men, she took a violent bite from the donut. Be damned the men and that's all! Except her Henry, of course. And Walsh.   
She inhaled deeply. Walsh. He had said he would wait even years for her, but Emma knew perfectly well it wasn't like that. That after such a proposal, she would have to give him an answer as soon as possible or she would have lost him regardless what her answer would be.  
She didn't want to lose him; she got along well with him. It was just that...  
She let her head fall on the palm of her hand.  
It was just that she didn't want to be a wife. She didn't want to bind herself like this. 

For years, she had lived her daily life with her son and only with him, sometimes delighting herself in the memories of old times. Perhaps she had never wanted to lose them because of what they reminded her of. She knew she should have lived in the present, but...but sometimes the present was difficult, and the past seemed...bittersweet. And she had always loved that match of flavours.   
She didn't want to give up on them, not even now, and she knew she would have had to do it, if she had accepted Walsh's proposal.  
Even the idea sounded strange: being married.   
When she was young, she had never imagined being able to come to that, and the only time she had thought it could happen, in a distant future...things had collapsed on her.   
She had slipped away from her fingers. And all because she was a scared dreamer.   
So, she had decided to forever banish the dreams from her life, and now Walsh threatened to make her believe again that it was possible and she...she wasn't ready.   
She probably didn't wanted to be, because it would have meant leaving the past behind her once and for all.   
And what was there in her past that was so beautiful that she did not wanted to leave it?   
There had been Henry, there had been...Regina.   
She had left Regina behind a long time ago, she was convinced about it, but Regina had been her rebirth, and Emma feared she would have come back being the person she was before meeting her if she had forgotten her forever.  
It was stupid, yes, and awfully pitiful, but it was what her stubborn head said to her, which had never succeeded in leaving behind Regina completely.   
She sighed, unloading all her anger towards herself on the donut again.  
Yet, where had that past with its bonds ever brought her to? She wondered.   
It brought her there, bolting donuts and coffee in a Starbucks when she had mother's duties, which she should dedicate herself to. It made her almost lose her so hard-worked stability, ghosts she believed had vanished, showing up again.   
She should have been careful now, looking out for Neal and other suspicious people she would see circulating around her and her son. Her thought ran to this one, while she extracted the phone from her pocket quickly, taken by the sudden impulse to call him to be sure he was ok.   
But then she stopped; he had to stay out of all of that. She would have to tell him, yes, to warn him, but she didn't want to become obsessive and paranoid because of unfinished business, which was just hers. Henry deserved a happy life and she couldn't live like that.   
She had spent her whole youth running from a life like that, constantly on alert of the new danger lying in the background. She still didn't always succeed in sleeping at night, used to waking up at the slightest sound. She didn't want to live in this way again; honestly, she didn't think she deserved it. 

She squeezed her eyes, letting the phone fall in her pocket again.   
The truth was that she didn't know what to do. She could search for Neal, driving him out and asking him what he wanted, in order to get rid of him once and for all. Maybe a part of her, the one still gnawed by that unfinished business, wanted it, wanted to look him in the eyes once again, to rub everything he had done to her in his face, everything he had deprived her of.   
Or, more easily, she could leave everything behind her.  
Warn the police, assuring the protection they needed and not thinking about the past ever again.   
And maybe the best way to do it was to marry Walsh.  
Maybe she would be happy with him, maybe, for once, everything would be alright.   
Maybe it was what she needed.  
But the doubt was tormenting her while she looked for all the possible motivations she had to make that choice.  
In the end she thought about Henry and she understood the only true question she had to ask herself, the only one which made sense: what would be better for Henry?  
Getting involved in her past's problems, obliged to constantly watch his back, while she saw old criminal entourages, and learning all the misery which his mother came from, or having a complete family, who knows, with maybe even a sibling, and the normal and happy life he deserved?   
The answer looked obvious and unquestionable, and everything suddenly seemed clearer.   
She would get rid of her past; she would take a step further ahead. She had taken many steps in her life; she could take another one.   
She would accept Walsh's proposal; she would become his wife.  
And she would never think about Neal again, about her loneliness or about her past.  
She drank the last sip of her coffee.  
She would never think about Regina again. 

\---

Three years ago, Storybrooke

Emma and Regina kept on completing each other in that way for a long time. Yes, completing, this was what Emma believed they did, because she found that strong and refined femininity in Regina that she herself didn’t have. And she had grown convinced that Regina was as addicted as she herself was to that “relationship”, because in Emma, she could find the touch of reality she needed, which was missing in that idyllic and static town.  
And it didn’t matter much that in the daylight, in public, everything kept on being as it had been at the start, and that each one of the two kept on being the type of person that the other hated most; the rancor loaded words, didn't matter, the battle which, after that temporary compromise, had started again at the top of its strengths and with the top of the weapons.  
It came, sooner or later, and pretty frequently too, that moment when the crowd vanished and the noises moved away, bringing with them all their worst parts.  
They remained eye in eye then, naked to that gaze, in their true nature, which was frighteningly different from the one they used to show. And then something clicked, and the mouths left behind the words to devote themselves to a different activity, in the dark, against a wall, behind a closed door, in the most unimaginable places, provided that they were hidden.   
There was no organization in what they did, no premeditation or coordination; it just happened, and it was unstoppable.   
And the hate kept on hitting them, devastating them, as always, but it was masked by hands, legs and limbs. It showed itself in touches rather than words, and maybe it had a different effect on their minds because it pushed them to go on with the fight until putting them out, feeding a want for control, which flowed into the destruction of the other one.   
And it was strange, scandalous!   
Emma believed that if Henry would discover it, he would have never wanted to see her ever again, and that terrorized her, but she could do nothing in order to help it.  
After all, she was fighting for him, and that was the kind of fight she believed to be the most important.

Until, one morning, she woke up after a particularly vivid dream and she noticed she couldn’t tell conflict and pleasure apart.   
She noticed she couldn’t say she was doing it just to fight her anymore and, eventually, to defeat her.   
She realized, with dread, she was laying on that habit because it was giving her stability. A strange and without doubt fragile stability that she had never found before, but which she had searched for all her life.  
But she also knew since that first moment that she couldn’t allow herself such a thing, because it would have been too much. And when it would end, because it would end soon, she knew it, she would have nothing else which to lie onto.

That day, she found herself again alone with Regina, but when she tried to get closer, Emma pushed her away.   
She saw her remaining speechless, she saw a flash crossing her gaze, but it was not a flash of rage, and Emma shivered for the effect it had on her, because for a moment, Regina looked like she was exposed and hurt. And Emma was sure that her pride must have been hurt by the refusal, but there was something else over pride in her eyes. And Emma didn’t think she wanted to discover what it was.   
So, coming back to Mary Margaret's house, she had made a decision; she would go away.   
Leaving Henry again was tormenting her from the deep, maybe it would also kill her, but if she would have remained, she knew things wouldn’t have gone right for any of them.   
Not for Regina, who still wanted to fight while she had lost the desire to do it, not for herself, who felt intoxicated by everything more and more every day, and not even for Henry.  
He would regain his stability, in life and at school, maybe he would also stop with all the confections (or beliefs) about fairytales and he would grow normally.  
After all, she kept saying to herself, what could she ever give to a child she had left at birth?   
Not safety, not her own experience, no values. She could give him love, yes, but she was more than sure that Regina was capable of that too, even if Henry believed in the contrary.   
With a little time, he would be happy.   
And then she would not lose him completely. She would demand to be allowed to see him, at least once a month, and she would keep on loving him with all of herself until the end of her days. But she knew she had to go; she had no other choices.   
Regina won, in the end.

She showed up at her door to make that request and give her last goodbye.  
Regina seemed different to her, cold, calculating like the beginning; she told herself it was because of what had happened and didn't give much importance to it.   
It ended like that then, in white walls and a too-perfect kitchen, exactly where it had begun.  
There, she gave her last goodbye, a normal goodbye between rival-mothers, without further implications or gestures.  
Still, she felt her gaze piercing through her back, while she walked towards the door in order to leave, but she didn't look back.   
She was ready to leave by then.  
She greeted Henry, and it was one of the most difficult things she had ever done. She was sure that, if Henry had been right and it was possible to rip a heart out of a chest, she would have left her own in that town without hesitation.

But the world is too strange and cruel to grant a simple goodbye.  
When she saw her son fall exanimate to the ground and she understood Regina had tried to kill her, she fell too into a bottomless pit. Her mind went dark, and remained dark for a long time, while the world kept on spinning in a sea of sorrow and an ocean of why.   
Where had she gone wrong? She wondered.   
How could she do wrong, when she believed she was doing right?   
And everything was so terribly meaningless that her mind anchored itself to the only acceptable explanation that was left, and her hand went searching for an old book. And it was just when her eyes caught colored figures and mysterious writings, that she come back to light. She re-emerged from the depths of the abyss on a new reality.  
And her first thought was for her.   
Murderer. Witch. Her nemesis.   
Her desire.  
She attacked her with all the strength she had in her body, searching for revenge for that crime, for that betrayal, and for a distraction from that pain, which was tearing her apart, and from her guilty feeling.   
She should have believed her son; she should have saved him. She should have stayed away from her. 

And then, the things rolled on so fast that she barely noticed it.   
They found themselves acting together, again, with the same aim, for that was only thing left to bond them to each other.   
And she had been sure Regina would have killed her at the first occasion, but she didn't.  
She slew a dragon, but it seemed like small matter in respect to the hell that was waiting for her in that hospital chamber.  
And in the end, it had been her to wake up Henry, under Regina's shocked eyes.  
They called it "true love's kiss". For Emma, who had seen the world come to an end in those few minutes, it was just desperate survival instinct, because she was not sure she could survive without her son.   
And since then, the time wound back, bringing her and all that town to a primordial consciousness, and at the same time, it started to run at an unspeakable speed.

In some ways she always ended up with Regina. And despite all that anger she felt towards her, she noticed she still didn't hate her.   
Sure, maybe it had been all her fault, maybe that "Evil Queen" everyone talked about really had been the most terrible being in the universe, but she knew Regina Mills, who had tried to eliminate her, but who, in some way, still gave her that strange feeling in her chest when she looked at her. The Regina Mills who kept fighting for her son, without caring about herself, despite everybody hating her and wishing her to be dead.   
And she found even herself fighting for her life, unexplainably, trying to save her from that monster who wanted to kill her. She did it for Henry, who couldn't lose a mother. She did it for her own soul, which wasn't a murderer's mind. And maybe, in a distant part of her, she did it also for that woman she had thought to know one day. 

But everything changed again when one of her touches awoke the magic which was in her.   
Emma was left speechless, and Regina was left speechless too, because there must have been a reason then, if she was there beside her.   
But that was not the right moment to think over it, in fact Emma didn't, when she pushed Regina away to avoid her falling into that vortex. She instead let herself fall into it. She had just felt she had to do it.   
And for all the time she passed in the enchanted forest, in that fairytale world of princes and princesses, of ogres and giants, which seemed still impossible for her, despite it surrounding her, she forced herself to blame Regina for everything, as everybody else did. As her mother did...her mother.

Mary Margaret was her mother; Snow White was her mother, the woman she had searched for her whole life. In a moment of irony, she considered herself lucky that her mother hadn't been Regina. Discovering it after the events would have been a little...shocking, let's say.  
And at night, she remained awake, thinking about how absurd all of that was, that she was...what? A savior?   
She, who could barely save herself from the twists and turns of her own mind?   
Absurd.  
But she was there, and she had to survive.   
She had to come back to her son. And if taking that role was what she had to do in order to succeed in that...well, it was what she would do.  
And she succeeded eventually, after a few days, which felt like years to her.   
She succeeded thanks to Regina.

And every effort she had done in the previous days to persuade herself that the guilt for everything was just hers, vanished into thin air in front of the sincere smile she gave her when she saw her again, as soon as she climbed up from the well.   
If she hadn't known her, she would have said that there was longing in it, of a mere, even difficult, company, of the only ally she had ever had, because if it hadn't been for her, she would have been completely alone in that city.   
But Regina could have never felt longing, not for her, anyway.  
Though, she had saved them both, and she had chosen to do it. She couldn't be that bad after all, could she?  
And she hadn't changed her mind, not even when they had explained to her the reason why her interference had been needed to make them exit safe and sound from the well.  
She had done what was best for Henry, Emma would have too.  
The rest of the town, however, didn't seem to agree. Maybe it couldn't, after everything Regina had done to its inhabitants.   
But Emma had always been one for second chances, after all, she had had one too. Actually, she had had two.  
One had been when she had got out of prison, and the other had been when her son had come searching for her.  
So, she decided to try, in the name of the Regina she knew. Because she was sure that if even just one person had trusted her, she could have changed. Whoever could, in her opinion.  
So, the afternoon before the "welcome back party " the town had organized for her and for Mary Margaret, the day after their return, she went to Regina's house.   
She wasn't sure it was a wise idea, but one more time, she wanted to try. 

Regina's house was a fortress. It had always looked majestic to her, but now it seemed to have lost its light. Maybe it had been Henry to take it away with him.  
And despite its walls were still white, it looked dark and intimidating...no, not intimidating, sad.   
Dark and sad. Just like Regina.   
She could imagine how she had felt, after Henry had gone away, and she had been left alone to front a town which wanted her dead.   
She was remaining hidden, they had said, she didn't make herself seen around and no one dared to go searching for her, fearful of the magic she owned once again.   
She was sure her parents would have tried to convince her to not go there, if they had known about her aim. Exactly for this reason, she had chosen not to tell them.  
And what about her? Wasn't she scared about Regina's magic?  
Yes, maybe a little. No.  
For some unexplainable reason, she couldn't associate Regina's image with the one of a powerful, evil witch.  
Though magic existed, she knew it by then, it had been exactly thanks to that that Regina had saved them...

The door opened and Emma didn't even notice to have knocked, so lost in thoughts.  
They exchanged a gaze, which wanted to look lighter than it really was.  
"Emma."  
"Regina."  
They stood still, staring at each other in silence.  
Too many things Emma would have wanted to say, too many questions were needed, which were whirling into her mind, torn between accusing and apologizing, wishing to be allowed to stay silent at the same time.   
Because the silence was colder, but maybe it was safer. Silence would hurt them less.  
For a moment, she let herself get lost in her eyes, and she startled when she noticed she missed it.  
She missed Regina Mills. And she missed what they had had, as strange and destructive as it may have been.   
And she felt terribly guilty for this.   
Regina slightly cleared her throat, uncomfortable by the silence, reminding Emma she had to speak.  
"Can I come in? I would like to...talk to you."  
Regina directed a gaze towards her, even more filled with questions, surprise and an indefinite sadness, but she said none of these, stepping aside and letting her in, closing the door behind her. 

Regina's house had also changed on the inside, Emma noticed. In all the times she had been there, she had found it bright, almost sparkling. Now instead, it was dark, full of shadows, with the shutters slightly opened.   
It gave her a heavy sense of sadness.   
And following her into the living room, she remembered that time, which felt like a century ago, when she had walked that same path.  
It was one much more troubled and dangerous then, in the name of a life and a strength, of a part of her that she felt like she had lost forever.  
She wasn't a lost girl anymore and this, in some way, made her feel less like herself, as absurd as it might be. But oh-so different had been the words she had told her that time from the ones she was about to tell her. That distant day, she would have never imagined this moment to come.   
After all, a century had passed.

"How are you?" Emma asked her.  
An inquisitive look, then Regina shrugged, looking away.  
She understood she was not going to answer her, and she thought it would be better for both of them to go straight to the point.   
"I wanted to thank you...you know, for pulling us out of that well. You didn't have to do it."   
Regina's lips twitched in a painful and ironic grimace, which tried to become a smile, but Emma didn't give up and went on.  
"You know, there will be... a party, tonight at Granny's, to celebrate our return. Perhaps you heard about it..."  
"Have fun." Regina replied for the first time, detached, as if speaking required her a great amount of energy.  
"Come."  
Just then, she really caught her attention. Finally, Regina moved her gaze on her, one half bitterly amused and the other vaguely surprised.   
"You want me to come?"   
Emma bit her tongue, feeling slightly embarrassed. Why the hell did it always have to be so difficult?   
She shrugged.  
"We are here because of you. I guess you deserve to be at the party."  
She saw Regina slowly shaking her head, that same, weird smile on her face.  
"This is exactly the problem Emma. You are here, because of me."  
Emma knew it was useless to reply to this; moreover, she could say nothing on the contrary, but she understood that if she hadn't convinced her there and then, she wouldn't have come.   
"Henry would be happy."   
That sentence was able to make her turn serious, something turning on in her gaze.  
Emma felt her heart clench.   
Hope.  
"He told you so?" she asked, a weak voice, which didn't even seem to be hers.  
Had she to lie to her? She nodded distractedly.   
"He made me understand it."  
The light went off. Maybe she was wrong, Emma thought, but she wasn't there to give false hope to anyone. She had never wanted to do it.  
Regina put back on that armor she had put completely down for a moment and she moved away to pour herself a glass of cider. She didn't offer it to Emma. She came back to her and looked her in the eyes.   
"So, you are asking me to."  
"Yes."  
Emma had to be resolute. She couldn't waste the last occasion at her disposal. Because she knew that if she had lost her in that moment, she would have lost her forever. And for some strange reason, the option looked to be, if not intolerable, at least tremendously sad. And she didn't want to be sad anymore.  
Before her determination, Regina looked away.  
"Don't you hate me, now that you know the truth? I believed you did. You also fell into that portal because of me..."  
No, Emma didn't hate her. She couldn't.  
"I don't hate you. I believed I did, in the enchanted forest, but I didn't expect you to pull us out of that well."  
She chose to provoke her, in order to awake in her, who seemed so distant, a reaction.   
Once upon a time, provocations worked with her. She hoped they still did.  
"I've been impressed, actually. It was the right occasion to get rid of me and...of my mother all at once. Instead, you chose to save us."   
Regina rolled her eyes, clicking her tongue, almost as if that argument had already bored her.  
Blatantly pretending.  
She mustn't have been used to being thanked for something.  
"I agreed with the closure of the well. I was helping Gold, didn't you know? I wanted to prevent you from coming back."  
Why did she try to put distance between them?   
Why didn't she want to be forgiven by her, the only one who was willing to do it?  
But with time, Emma had learnt to read beyond those words.  
"You wanted to do it for Cora, right? In order to prevent her from reaching Henry."  
Regina abruptly looked up at her, slightly widening her eyes in surprise.   
She must not have expected her to understand.   
"She is very powerful. You wanted to protect him. I understand it."  
The dark-haired one looked away again, ignoring her words.   
But she seemed closer to Emma, more exposed, thoughtful.   
"She doesn't seem very...affectionate, as a mother" Emma whispered, arousing a bitter and forced smile on the other's lips.  
"You have no idea what she is like, as a mother... "  
And Emma was hit by that, because there weren't any times when she talked with Regina or she was in her company in which she didn't discover something new about her. At first, they were portions of her body, now, fragments of her soul.   
She must have suffered too.  
She didn't know her story very well. Her parents had outlined some of it, but not really much, not anything that could justify her actions, anyway. It wasn't written in Henry's storybook , but she imagined it must have been sad and full of fear and regrets.   
Maybe this was the reason why she acted that way. Maybe Emma could understand it.   
Or maybe she wanted to understand it, she wanted to believe in her human nature more and less in her criminal one, in order to live with the idea of how she passed the last several months.  
This was especially true with that light warmth, that disinterested and unavoidable attraction she felt towards her, the one that it wasn't just physical anymore.   
But she understood from her gaze that this one wasn't the argument she should use to try saving the, even minimal, faith Regina had in her, which was enough to let Emma enter in her house and to make Regina lower a few of those many masks, which hid her true herself.   
So, she decided to go over.  
"Anyway, in the end you have saved us. Thank you."  
Regina skeptically looked at her for a moment, going back to staring at that glass, which she seemed to find so interesting. Emma kept going.  
"We all make mistakes, Regina. Some do more of them, some others less, but...the important thing is doing what's right in the end and trying to fix them, as you're doing."   
Another glance.  
"Who says you I want to fix them?"   
"Henry told me."  
And this time, she really broke through her stoicism.  
Yet, Regina looked almost...worried. What had they done to her to make her so afraid of letting even the smaller part of her be uncovered?   
"What has he told to you?"  
Emma swallowed.  
"What you told him. That you want to redeem yourself; that you want to change to be the mother he deserves."   
Regina stayed silent.  
"And I want to help you, maybe because no one else will do it, but I believe in you. I know you can do it;  
I know you would do it for Henry, as I would have accepted to never come back, for him."  
It looked as if she was really listening to her for the first time.  
If she had been in front of another person, she would also have said she was tearing up.   
Anyway, those words reached Regina's heart; Emma could see it from her eyes. Eyes she had learnt to read by then.   
"After everything I've done...why are you so kind to me, Emma? Why have you...saved me?"  
It seemed almost as though that idea was scaring her, but Emma had no doubt about answering.  
"Because it was the right thing to do. I'm not kind, just...I understand you, that's all. I'm not a saint either, Regina, and I come from a world where...it's not so easy to point a finger at a person, because the fault is almost never...well, only of that person." she took a breath, making sure she was following her words.  
"Yes, maybe I hate you a little, for what you did to me, to all of us and...to many other people before, from what they tell me, but..."  
She saw her tore away her gaze again and resigned herself to a sardonic smile, hearing what everybody thought of her. Emma hurried to take hold of her again before it was too late, laying a hand on her arm.  
"...but, Regina, you can change, you have changed, and this is what really matter."  
She swallowed again, searching for words.  
"And maybe we will still... keep on spitting venom at each other and we will still quarrel for whatever reason, I'm sure about it, but...I recognize the truth when I see it. I have a sort of..." but the idea of her superpower, compared to the absurd world where she had found herself, seemed so ridiculous to her, so she decided to avoid speaking about it.  
"...I recognize it and that's all. And the love that I see in your eyes when you look at Henry is... well, it's true, and I know there is nothing you wouldn't do for him, and there is nothing I wouldn't do to see him happy."  
She remained silent, steadying her breath, staring at her.  
Regina pierced her just with her gaze, burning her like that light and innocent touch, which Emma abruptly made herself aware of. She pulled back her hand.   
Possessing each other had never scared them, but getting to know each other terrorized them.  
The kindness, which they both were stranger to, also terrorized them.   
Regina didn't answer, and Emma understood she has been there for too long, and she has said too much. She rarely exposed herself like this, but maybe it had been useful, maybe she had succeeded in her aim, she had persuaded her.   
"Come to the party, at eight." she said again, her voice a little less steady than before.   
The moment to leave had come, she knew it; she was about to do it, just...Regina's eyes had taken a different shade right in front of hers, and she believed she had to know that one, in order to not lose that contact.   
And again, she knew she had to go, but those eyes were so magnetic that...   
She really had to go, because if she didn't do it....if she had given in to the call of dark and slightly trembling lips which were getting imperceptibly closer, almost as though it had been natural...  
Her mind suddenly went blank, finding her only oxygen in the breath which collided onto her lips.   
Her eyes felt useless, letting their eyelids crumple, leaving her just a crack through which she could see all that interested her, all that she wanted to see.   
Those lips whose softness she was already foretasting, different from the one she had already known because now they belonged to a renewed person.   
And she had to know them, she had to know that person, she had to...  
No.  
She pulled herself back.   
No, she couldn't do it. Because she didn't know that person. She didn't know her possible reactions and she didn't wanted to hurt anybody.   
And she didn't know all the possible effects it could have on her, and she didn't want to get hurt more than she had already done.   
She couldn't afford to look her in the eyes while she moved away, reaching the door by herself with a completely unmotivated weight in her limbs and in her heart.  
Regina reached her just at the last moment, opening the door to her as a perfect hostess, because everything could change, but some things would never.   
She made her go out in an embarrassing silence, which for the first time, didn't see them as enemies, nor friends.   
Just conscious women, resigned to their loneliness.


	5. Moonlight

Twelve years ago, Phoenix

Two months after Henry's first birthday, Emma finally found the courage she needed to ask Regina out to dinner.  
It was a silly thing actually, since the three of them had dinner together at Regina's or Emma's place almost every evening, but for Emma a real dinner in a real restaurant meant something different ( not that Regina's dinners weren't at the height of professional chef's ones, but anyway).It meant something more.  
Emma hoped it didn't mean too much either, for Regina.  
They still hadn't talked about what their relationship was. Of course, there was a relationship, and a pretty important one too, since they passed almost all the time together by then, but...just it didn't have a name yet. It probably didn't even need one, Emma often reassured herself, but the thing that she feared was that not naming it would allow it to disappear without reason or explanation at anytime.  
Like it had never existed, despite it always had.  
It was frustrating, in some ways, coming back home and not knowing how to act or what to call the woman who was waiting for you with your son.  
And the fact that she knew there was something, and that it was even more important than how it would have normally been because Henry was deeply involved in it, made it even worst to face and to lose.  
Not that Emma thought herself to be as important to Regina as Henry was, but damn, Regina seemed happy. Sometimes, she looked at her and she seemed to be just...happy.  
And Emma wanted, she needed, to know if she was in some way involved in what made her look that way. Because it would have changed everything.  
She just hadn't known how to do it, how to ask, how to understand. Until that day.  
She was normally working in "her" shop, folding skirts and shirts and hanging up dresses, wandering around the big aisles searching for the right place to put them, when a young woman had approached her. She was searching for a dress, a very special one, as she had said, for her first date with the one she hoped would soon become her boyfriend (yes, she hadn't spared details to Emma).  
He had asked her out that afternoon by calling her on the phone.  
The girl was such a mixture of happiness and uncontrollable excitement, that Emma couldn't have done anything but listen to her and smile at her thrill, trying to help her in the search and at the same time, letting her mind free to wander around lost in thoughts, far from her actions and from that super excited girl.  
She had been thinking, actually, if Regina would have reacted in the same way if she had asked her out.  
Of course not, instead Regina would have turned her nose up at such a display of personal emotions in public, but probably inside, she would have been just...happy. And maybe that would have been the way to finally understand what she was for Regina, because Emma had a secret weapon to make her reveal her emotions: Henry.  
Regina had never hidden her emotions, her real ones, to Henry, even if he was just a baby.  
The worst that could happen was Regina declining the invite or a boring night (the latter even worse), but suddenly, she felt brave enough to take the risk. 

So, when she left the shop, instead of heading to her house, where she knew Regina and Henry were waiting for her, she went to the nearest flower shop, and spent all the money she had with her to buy the most beautiful bouquet in the shop. It was made up of some white tulips coming out from a carpet of soft leaves, but above all, by big, crimson roses which proudly stood out of the bunch with their velvety heads, sprung open to the sky, Regina's favorites.  
It was so beautiful; she was almost sure Regina would have liked it. And it was also quite expensive, but Emma decided to not care about it, for one time.  
So, embracing a bouquet almost bigger than her chest, she came back home, carefully maneuvering in the subway in order to protect her flowers at best of her ability.  
When she reached her house door, they almost looked as tired as she was, but anyway, they had miraculously survived the journey.  
This was already more than enough for Emma, who was used to results that were so much worse.  
There she stopped, suddenly panicking at the whole situation.  
What should she have done then?  
Entering and calling for her, to give her the flowers and ask her out, or ringing the bell and just waiting outside until she would have come to open the door, to hand her the bouquet and ask her the fatal question?  
She honestly had no idea which way Regina would have preferred, but finally she decided on the latter.  
It was more common, and probably would have made the other-mother-of-my-son-who-waits-for-me-at-home situation less weird.  
She was probably just about to make herself seem ridiculous, but anyway, she rang that bell and took a step back in waiting, trying not to think about the fact that even if the flowers looked beautiful, after all the efforts she had done in order to preserve them, after a whole day of work, she surely didn't.  
But anyway, none of it mattered anymore when Regina opened the door. 

"Emma, this is your house, couldn't you just use your key and..."  
She went silent looking at her, and Emma's fears suddenly took shape in her sharp eyes.  
Regina stared at Emma from her head to her feet, stopping her gaze on the flowers while an amused, surprised and dangerously malicious grin was spreading on her face.  
Emma suddenly became sure she was about to do one of the worst things of her life.  
So, she just stayed silent.  
Damn Regina, with her deep, brown eyes and her winning smile. Damn herself and her dumbness.  
"Emma? Do you have to tell me something?" she asked, almost pulling her out of her misery.  
Emma blushed.  
"Yeah, sure. These..." she looked at the flowers. That bouquet was too big. Really. Inappropriate.  
Still, there it was. She handed it to her.  
"...these are for you. Hope you like them. I just...wanted to ask you something..."  
Regina took the flowers, relieving her at least from their weight, but Emma still waited for her reaction to them to speak. When she saw her staring intensely at them, hiding a smile she could recognize as a more sincere one, she went on.  
"You know, I was thinking...we have never had a...real date, spending the evening in a restaurant and walking around hand in..."  
Stop it, you idiot. Not too much, remember?  
"I mean, things like these, and...I don't know if it makes sense to you but...if you're free this evening, I think we could just..."  
And then, Regina laughed. Sincerely and freely, making Emma's heart jump in her chest. And if she hadn't been so captured in that sweet sound, she would have been honestly drowning in her own shame and self-pity.  
When her laughter faded out, Regina looked at her.  
"Emma."  
"Yes?"  
"Stop stammering and come inside. If we're going out this evening, I have to get dressed and you have a proper shower to take too."  
Emma almost couldn't believe that.  
"Is it a yes?"  
"I guess it's not a no."  
So, Emma stopped talking and just followed her in her own house, suddenly feeling like the luckiest person in the whole world.

The restaurant they chose was not in Emma's neighborhood. She had decided she had enough of those places she saw every day; besides, she thought Regina deserved more than that.  
So, they had chosen to go to a restaurant in the neighborhood of Regina's house, which was in one of the richest neighborhoods of the city. Honestly, Emma hoped with all of herself that her income of the month would be enough to pay for a dinner there, but she brought some extra money, just in case.  
At first Regina had not agreed exactly for this reason. She knew perfectly well her economic conditions and, since Emma had been irremovable since the first moment about being the one to pay, she hadn't wanted her to spend all her money just for a dinner. But Emma had been irremovable also about that, and as much as Regina could be determined, Emma could be stubborn, and there had been no way she had been able to convince her to do otherwise.  
So, there they were, in a small place with sheer glass pavement, golden twiddles on the cream-colored walls and a few wooden tables scattered around the hall.  
It was enlightened by warm, soft lights, and even if Regina had chosen it because she found it to be less serious of the many, Emma just found it as classy and intimidating for a girl like herself.  
Wandering among the table to reach theirs, she couldn't help wondering how it must be, to grow up and always live in such a luxury.  
One of the things she would never know.  
However, as long as Regina seemed satisfied with her choice, she was happy.  
Henry seemed to like that place too. Which child wouldn't have been charmed by the fluttering lights like fireflies, hanging from the ceiling or by the delicious smell of food coming from the swinging kitchen doors?  
Obviously, he had come with them; they had not even wondered about it. Henry was what bonded them in the first place, what had made them who and what they were then, and they were his mothers first; they could have never left him just to go to dinner. Besides, they would have missed out on all the fun they had, trying to shush him when he babbled too loud or trying to keep him quiet for at least the time they needed to put the food in his mouth, without making a mess all over the table.  
Henry was just amazing; they both knew it. And there couldn't be better ways in which they would have enjoyed a date, than laughing and playing with him.  
Moreover, this didn't mean they hadn't some time left for the two of them. Sometimes in fact, Henry was totally captured by some of his little toys or some things from the table, that he just fell weirdly silent, leaving them to their conversations.  
And they talked so much, probably more than they had ever done.  
At home, there was always so much to do, work constantly on their mind, and all the noisy surroundings that blocked them in some ways.  
But there, on that Friday evening, in a different place...they just felt free.  
There was nothing really different from their other days. The noises were still there, the work had just been left behind and their lives were still the same mess, but Emma had promised to herself first that that night had to be special, that that was the night, which would have marked another step forward for them, and she was not letting anything affect it. 

They talked to each other like they had never done with anyone else, casually like it was usual to them, because they probably would have always been too complicated people to talk lightly of all the things which had weighted down their lives. But they discovered that losing all the boundaries they had built in years past was even too easy in company of the other woman.  
It was almost scary, actually.  
Emma told her about her years in foster homes, going through them using anecdotes, which were sometimes painful, using humor whenever possible.  
She had already told her all the story of Neal's betrayal, but then Regina understood it better, knowing all the bad she came from; and to finally see understanding in her eyes was in some way healing.  
Regina had many stories to tell too, surely much more than she had told to her even that night, but she knew she needed time, and she wouldn't push her or make her uncomfortable in any way.  
But after each one of her stories, Emma could feel a burning desire crawling under her skin. It was a desire of revenge for what Regina had experienced in her youth, but most of all, it was a desire of healing all of her wounds, burned by the fear of not being enough to do it.  
Maybe it was also that same desire of knowing that had been creeping inside of her for weeks.  
And when they ended that dinner, after tasty plates and a delicious red wine, which Emma suspected to cost more than the whole dinner, with Henry asleep cradled in Regina's arms, she just couldn't hold herself back anymore. She brought up that argument she had kept locked in the depth of her mind for too long, and with it all of her questions.  
"So..." she smiled awkwardly, probably slightly drunk by all the wine.  
"Have you enjoyed the dinner?"  
Regina smiled to her too, looking up from Henry's face for only a moment.  
"Yes, of course. Have you?"  
"Yes, of course."  
Emma giggled at the glance Regina gave her.  
"Sorry, I didn't mean to imitate you, I'm just...very happy about how all of this turned out"  
"Yeah, me too." Regina answered softly, still lost in Henry's peaceful face.  
She cleared her throat, searching for the remnants of her courage.  
"Listen, I was thinking..."  
"Miss Swan, you scare me when you think, you know that?"  
Emma silenced herself abruptly, getting a serious mark, maybe even slightly warningly, in her voice, which made her shiver.  
This wasn't the best way to begin- she thought.  
Then she saw a playful little smile on her face and relaxed a bit, forcing a laughter to come out of her mouth.  
"Nothing foolish, I promise."  
Regina looked at her again for just a second. Still, there was that warning in her eyes, but Emma hoped it was just her imagination and forced herself to go on, knowing she would never find such an occasion again or such a courage in herself.  
"I was thinking..." she started again, pausing to study every word she was about to say.  
"I guess we can...consider this one a date, can't we?"  
"Yes, I guess we can."  
Emma took a deep breath, not hearing any emotions in her voice.  
" So...do you think there will be other ones?"  
Regina looked at her, while her grip on Henry slightly tightened.  
"Emma, we almost live together, please don't be ridiculous. Of course, there will be other ones."  
Emma stayed silent, suddenly losing her words. And it was Regina to sigh this time.  
"What are you trying to ask me, Emma?"  
Emma swallowed hard. Then she tried again.  
"I was wondering if...we could consider ourselves... a couple by now. I mean...if you want of course."  
She found enough courage to look at Regina, but she was not saying a word nor looking at her. She just kept on rocking Henry, almost nervously.  
She had never acted this way before. She had never looked so distant and so insecure before.  
And it hurt. It hurt so much.  
"Listen I know this is all...complicated, that we are complicated, but you can have happiness."  
Again, she gained no reaction from her, and she couldn't help but wonder what exactly was scaring her so much, if it was the thought of being somehow bonded to someone or the fact that she was that someone. She hoped the first, so she kept on trying. Desperately.  
"You told me that...you had never found anyone brave enough to take on the risk of being with you, but it isn't true anymore. I..." she swallowed again, deciding finally to leave all of her armors behind for once, in order to succeed.  
"I want to do it. I want to take the risk because it is not a risk for me, Regina."  
Emma kept on staring at her, even if she wasn't doing the same.  
"You gave Henry and me everything we needed and everything we could wish for, and you still do it. You are the person I trust the most. Actually, the only person I trust, and I know it could be all too much and...a little bit scary because if you look at us..."  
and she couldn't prevent a smile from tugging at her lips saying those words.  
" ...we already have a family, a son, and we almost live in the same house, but...it's not written anywhere that we have to ruin this. This is probably...our best possibility"  
And honestly, Emma had no idea where all this bravery and audacity came from, but in front of the slight smile across Regina's face, she just felt the urge to keep going.  
"I don't want to be...pushing or annoying, just...I need answers. Because, as far as I know, you are so beautiful, and clever, and smart, and affectionate as a mother, that you should be already married, so I wonder why you don't want to..."  
But Regina stopped her, standing up.  
"I think we need to go. Henry is awakening, and you know he is not the sweetest of babies when he wakes up at night. We need to go home."  
Emma was left speechless by the sudden change happening in her. One moment before, she was almost giving in, and the next one...  
Damn, she hadn't even given her a hint about her answer, and now she wanted to go!  
"Yeah, I guess we should..."  
She answered flatly, not even bitterly, not a single emotion in her voice. She stood up in turn.  
"I'll go pay. Gather his belongings, please. If you want."  
She turned her back to her and walked away. 

The whole trip back to Regina's house had been silent.  
Since it was the nearest of the two, they had already decided before dinner to go there for the night. Not that it was the first time Emma spent the night in Regina's house, but that time she really didn't feel like doing it. She just wanted to go in her house alone, to snuggle in her bed, thinking where she had done wrong for being rejected for the umpteenth time in her life and possibly cry until sleep got the best of her.  
It had hurt. It had hurt so much, more than a "no" would have. Because she had opened herself up, she really had. She had been ashamed of the things she had been saying, which looked more like pleas but that had been true anyway, but she had put aside her own feelings in order to go towards her, to make her understand how really important she was to her and she hadn't even answered her.  
She had just ignored her and the way she had opened her heart to her.  
It had felt so little like Regina, that her heart still ached for it. Because she probably had just ruined everything and Regina was going to leave her like everyone else had done before.

As soon as they got in the house, Regina vanished into Henry's room, putting him, who had fallen asleep again during the trip, in his cot and carefully covering him.  
Emma waited for her at the door, in order to not wake up the little one, but she got herself ready to face her as soon as she was done with him, because after all that had happened, she wasn't going to drop out like that.  
Then Regina reached her, but before she could say anything, she gestured her to stay silent and to follow her in the next room.  
This one was Regina's bedroom, Emma's favorite room of the house. She found it just perfect, with the soft colors, the refined furniture and for the way in which the sunrays pierced through its windows at morning , giving it that daydream atmosphere even on the cloudy days.  
Regina stood in front of her. Emma could barely see her since they had not lit a light besides the one in the hall, her features slightly outlined by the moonbeams. She was so stunning that Emma had to hold her breath for a moment.  
Then she tried to regain composure, remembering the reason why she wasn't letting herself enjoy the sight of the most beautiful woman she had ever seen in her whole life right in her bedroom.  
"Listen, if it's just too much for you, you can just tell me, you know? I won't be mad at you and you will keep seeing and raising Henry, just like it used to be. I just want the truth. I just want to know what you really want, so I will be able to decide what I want for myself. Please."  
She was looking her straight in the eyes, pure green sheer just to hold the truth, searching for it in those deep brown forests of unknown.  
"Answer me."  
Regina closed her eyes, almost in defeat. Then she leaned her forehead against Emma's, shaking her head slightly.  
"I can't..."  
Emma closed her eyes too, feeling her heart break into pieces.  
"I want..."  
Regina's voice was weak, barely audible but so filled with emotions that it made Emma shiver and also partially regret the anger she had felt towards her moments before.  
"I want us. I want you."  
And in that moment, Emma understood.  
She understood that she had to be happy, even if she really wasn't, because that was all she was going to get from Regina. Maybe it would always be.  
But Regina meant so much, too much to her to let her slip away, and if it had to depend, even partially, on herself, she would have done everything to avoid it from happening.  
Even if it meant sacrificing what she had always believed in.  
Even if it meant changing her needs. Even if she didn't feel totally happy, when Regina held her face with her hands, pulling her in a breathtaking kiss that Emma soon returned, because she wanted to believe that in Regina's arms, she would find another kind of happiness.  
And there it was, their dream of happiness, right between their bodies, enough real and tangible to make Emma shudder and still distant enough to make her heart ache.  
But they could reach it, they could have it, she kept on repeating to herself, while she clenched Regina's dress in her fists, kissing her again and again, deeply and desperately, without a break for breathing.  
They could have it all, if they had really wanted it.  
If just for a single, little moment, they had really believed they both deserved it.  
But they were already too lost, too complicated, too strong and at the same time fragile. Two scared and lonely souls. What could they have ever been? How would they have ever been able to complete each other?  
Emma didn't know. Still, destructive paths had always been her favorite ones, and she wasn't going to back off right then. Not with Regina.  
Emma was no one, she had always felt like it anyway, and she probably had nothing to offer her, but it didn't matter, not as long as she would be there to make her feel worthy of something for the first time.  
Suddenly Emma felt herself being dragged from that heavenly kiss back into reality by Regina's hands, which left her face to disappear behind Regina's back. And Emma was so dazed by all those emotions and all those thoughts that she didn't see what was coming until it happened there, before her eyes.  
Regina had opened her dress, and now she was letting it slide to the floor. Emma's eyes uncertainly lingered on her body for a moment, enough to realize it was perfect in the moonlight. Her skin was so smooth that it allowed the white light to flow on it in a prolonged caress like it was moon water, and her shapes were so perfectly molded that they made her look like a Greek goddess statue, and Emma felt almost ashamed to openly look at all of that, as if she was in some way violating a sanctuary.  
What had Regina even done to make her almost devoted?  
It was madness, and Emma knew it.  
But Regina didn't give them time to wonder or to be uncomfortably unsure. She took her face again, looking her straight in the eyes, making Emma's heart jump in her chest.  
"This..."  
Again, she leant her forehead against hers, never breaking their eye contact.  
"This is everything I can grant you." she whispered.  
And Emma fell, feeling so lost, like she had just seen every one of her dreams broken into pieces, and still so relieved, like finally the certainty of being enough for her had settled in her mind.  
And she didn't really know if that was the way in which she wanted to be enough, if that could be enough for her, because what she wanted was Regina and every part of her, but for the first time in her life, she just wanted to feel.  
Like it was a revenge, for Regina not allowing herself to be happy, for the thousands of rejections of herself, and for all the love they had learned to deny. Like it was the only thing she could do to keep her close, to not lose her.  
And Regina fell, on the bed, giving her body to the night and throwing Emma's mind and body in flames.  
They had never slept together. It had always been, for Emma, like their relationship was so pure, familiar and genuine that they didn't want to ruin it by sleeping together. Like it would have lost importance, or pureness, if they had.  
Still, a small part of her wanted exactly that right then. It wanted Regina and the affection, the love or whatever they shared to lose importance to her eyes, to become surmountable.  
But Regina, the mother of her son, the amazing woman she was and all the love she held in her heart would have never been surmountable for her, she should have known it.  
And a night of actual worship didn't make it any better.  
She lost herself in Regina's body, in her softness, in her whispers and in her pleas, feeling as every one of the words which came out of her mouth branded painfully, yet ecstatically in her own heart, bounding her to Regina's soul more and more, like never before.  
And she lost herself in Regina's gentle touches, in the care she felt in them, which made her tingle and yearn for more, even if actually she wanted it to never end.  
She wanted to feel worthy that way, cared that way and loved that way, forever.  
Just like she never had.  
It was scary, terrifying, disarming, regenerative, addictive.  
It was all she needed and all she had searched for.  
It made her feel stronger than ever, and it also represented her final defeat, lying like a warrior on the creased sheets with her breath short, her sight blurred, and her heart lost in the speed.  
She was the winner and the loser both at the same time, and nothing had ever felt as blissful as that. 

Regina's caress on her arm made her shudder , then she intertwined fingers with hers and Emma returned the hold as soon as she felt it.  
She was lying next to her, both under the blanket, perfectly awake looking at the ceiling it the dark.  
A strange, silent peace had settled all around them. There were no words to describe what had just happened inside and out of them, so they just stayed silent, enjoying the closeness of each other. But something was yet to come, Emma could feel it even in the blissful state of mind she was in.  
In fact, after another few minutes in which their breathing turned back to the normal pace, Regina spoke, barely audible. But Emma listened to her anyway, ready to catch and hold every word, as it was a treasure.  
"I've been married."  
But she would have never expected that. She stayed silent anyway, knowing better than to speak.  
"This is why they call me Mrs.. It's not just for my work in the city council."  
The least Emma could do was look at her, and that she did, still allowing her all the space she needed in the silence of the night to freely speak.  
"He is...dead now. A couple of years ago. "  
Emma didn't know if she had to feel sorry for her, or for him, because Regina didn't seem to be at all.  
Once again, she chose to remain silent.  
"When I was...eighteen, my father fell ill. He had always been sickly, but he had never gotten so sick before. The doctors made a lot of different diagnoses, and he started to do a lot of different therapies but...they were all quite expensive and one day my mother just informed us we did not have enough money to keep up the pace. I know it sounds absurd since we were rich but...it really isn't. She was already working on her personal company , she wanted to climb the ladder by herself, to break the boundaries this city and its council put to her, as she said, and at the same time, she wanted to keep on living her luxurious life. Of course, we didn't have enough money anymore. "  
She swallowed, taking a breath, and Emma found herself fearing what was about to come.  
"Anyway, she would have accepted my father's death in order to succeed in her aim, but I loved my father; I couldn't allow such a thing. I was a Mills too, after all, I could do something too.  
One day my father fell into a comatose state. Fear devoured my heart, so I went to my mother to ask her what I could do, but before I could speak, she gave me a proposal, if we can call it this.  
She told me she had talked to this man, who was the owner of a very important company in the state of Washington, for some things about her rising company, and he had told her he would have been glad to help her in everything she needed, if she had given him something in return."  
Emma squeezed her hand silently, forecasting what would come next.  
"He wanted me." Regina almost seemed to choke with her own words, but she maintained her composure all the same.  
"I don't even know how he had seen me, how he knew me, but...the thing was that that was exactly what I needed to help my father. Surely my mother would have asked me anyway, even forced me, so at least it had been good for me; I needed it too.  
So, I told her I would accept it on one condition: part of the money he would have brought should go to my father's therapies.  
She was surprised; she didn't expect me to be brave enough or grown enough to do such a thing, but in some way it pleased her. She was satisfied. She probably thought she had been the one who had taught me to act like this. So, she agreed.  
I had made her happy and I had probably saved my father's life, but right then I felt as though I was the filthiest person in the world."  
Emma was experiencing a pang in her chest like she had never felt.  
After all Regina had passed through she was still strong, she was still kind and amazing and...Emma loved her. And she felt terribly guilty towards her, also.  
She rolled on one side and got closer to her, entering in the aura of pain her words had left hanging in the air around her. Without ever releasing her hand she caressed her cheek, wiping away a lonely tear on her face, doing everything she could even though she felt like she was the most useless human being in the world.  
She had run out of words. What could she say?  
Still, Regina hadn't finished her story yet.  
"Sometime later, my father woke up. They brought him to another doctor whose therapy we could afford thanks to my wedding. He felt better for a bit, and this gave me all the strength I needed to face that challenge. "  
A sad smile spread on her lips.  
"He was so angry when he found out about what I had done. He shouted at me for like...half of an hour and then he broke into tears. I hugged him and assured him it was ok, that I was ok, but I really wasn't.  
At least, he managed to come to my wedding."  
Regina fell silent for another minute, and Emma really didn't know if she should ask more or just wait for her next words, whatever they might be, if there had been other words.  
But yes, then they came, and Emma wondered herself again where that woman found all that strength.  
"He was sixty; I was eighteen. I was still studying. When my marriage became known, no one got close to me anymore. I was like...some sort of sad princess, and they were too happy and carefree to stay with me. I had no one besides my father. "  
She hinted a bitter smile.  
"People think there is freedom in this world, in this state at least, but there is not. There are just laws, money and people, good and bad ones. You just have to be lucky enough to find the good ones. My husband was... wasn't kind with me. He passed his whole days working, which was good for me, being nice to people, doing interviews I've never taken part in, and he came back home only in the evening. When he came back..."  
Emma felt Regina's grip on her hand tighten.  
"...well, he wanted his wife. And his wife was...a terrible one, because she was always sad and distant and...it was not what he had asked for. But he always found a way to make her enough for him. In one way or another. "  
Regina's eyes were now full of tears, even if her voice still didn't break, and Emma's were too.  
If she just...If she could have just...  
Regina stayed still; she did not move even to wipe away her tears.  
"At least, I lived in the same city my father did, even if...I didn't visit him every day, because if he saw the bruises...I feared his sickness would have gotten worse. Anyway, I managed to be with him enough time. Even though, it could never have really been enough. Until one day, he suddenly felt better. He stood up and walked with me around the garden of the clinic.  
It is the best memory I have of those years. In those precious hours, all my fears and all the pain disappeared; I was just happy. Then, the day after, he passed away."  
Emma was left totally startled.  
Regina's eyes slowly closed for a moment, almost as if to assimilate all that sorrow and pain, and she looked like the most beautiful creature Emma had ever seen.  
"One year later, my husband passed on, too. A car accident. My mother moved to Europe to finally start directing her company; she told me to go with her. I refused. I had enough. Sometimes I miss her, but...I couldn't. I stayed here, taking my father's place in the council, and that's all. At least, I was finally free."  
she paused.  
"The reason that I'm telling you this is because you're right, you need an answer."  
"Regina, you don't have to..."  
"No, it's right. You always say you've changed so much for the better because of me, since the day we first met, and believe me when I say that knowing it makes me proud and happy and... makes me feel important. You make me feel important Emma, and besides my father, no one has ever done it.  
So, no, this isn't too much to me but I would be too much of a deal to you, Emma. After everything...this, I don't know if I will ever be able to properly love or just...stay with someone. I don't really know what love means, even if I felt it for my father, and I feel it for Henry and...for you. But I don't think I'll ever be up to this feeling and you deserve something different, and I can't be bonded anymore. "  
She looked her finally in the eyes.  
"Can you understand this?"  
And at that moment, before her watery eyes, Emma just hugged her. She couldn't help herself . She kept her close without letting her speak another word, caressing the skin of her back and feeling her own heart ache for every tear she felt Regina was spilling on her shoulder. They were tears of years and years of pain, sorrow, sadness and loneliness, and Emma felt so grateful that she was the one to wipe them and to soothe her sobs, even if after so much time.  
"I'm sorry...I'm really sorry...I understand. Forgive me." were the only things she was able to say, tightening her grip even more. Regina just cradled into her arms and after what felt like hours of pain and relief both at the same time, she fell asleep.  
Then Emma stared at her for a little bit more, at all her beauty, at all her weakness and at all her strength, and just felt the need, one more time, to make her understand that she was so much more worthy than she thought.  
She just couldn't lose her.  
She smiled sadly in the dark.  
"Please, don't leave me" she whispered, laying a light kiss on her exposed shoulder. And maybe it was just her imagination, but she felt her shivering slightly.  
Emma covered her better with the sheet, and eventually fell asleep too, just hoping that she was enough to keep such an amazing creature close to her. 

\---

Present day, New York

Now that really was not possible.  
Neal and that lackey of his really had to be mad or something. Honestly, she didn't consider herself such an important or peculiar person to require all these strategies, to be draw her near.  
Ok, maybe Neal needed to talk in order to settle some score with her or whatever, and maybe she might have also agreed to that, if it would have helped her to have him out of her life forever, but that? Was everything but normal.  
Really, what kind of problem did they have? Did they really think that making her believe she was a fool with false memories would have brought her on their side?  
If they did, they were very wrong.  
If he had decided to treat her with respect and maturity for once maybe, and just maybe, she could have put aside some of her resentment, but that treatment?  
It confirmed what she already thought of him: he was a bastard and a coward, and he really had no right to show up then.  
She stared at the pictures clasped in her hand one more time.  
Absurd. It really was absurd.  
If she had known about being constantly stalked before, she would have definitely already taken action. Even if those pictures were faked, she and her son were in it, their faces at least, so someone must have taken pictures of the two of them somehow. It was really disturbing.

Yes, she had decided to leave it all behind her, to start again, to accept Walsh's proposal, and she had met no obstacles since Henry had already taken her decision for granted.  
He had already settled everything on her behalf, even a private date with Walsh that same evening (and even if she had been thankful for this and for him being so happy about it, she thought she had to correct his behavior. He had to stay a little less in her business and a little more in his own), but after having found that camera, staring at it in a sort of goodbye after her radical decision, she had felt the sudden need to see the pictures it held. One last time.  
She really hadn't seen that thing for a long time, and honestly, she had missed it.  
It was some way painful, for the feelings it brought back, but it was also beautiful, in a nostalgic way, reminding her of happy moments she wouldn't have given back, even if she had chosen to start again.  
She had stared at the shoulder strap with Henry's name on it for a bit, caressing it with her fingers and she had recognized that, after all, she was actually happy to have it back.  
The thought of having lost it in the fire had always saddened her, because with the time, holding pieces of her life, it had become a piece of herself.  
She guessed she should have been thankful to Neal for this.  
On the other hand, it meant he has been following them since at least a year before, and this made it even more disturbing and weird.  
Anyway, besides the feelings the object was able to awake in her, she had thought that the photographs in it might have been important too, since, in her opinion, that camera had been purposely put there for her to find it.  
Not that she should have minded it, she had just promised she wouldn't, and in fact, she just wanted to take a look, but after seeing them...well, she couldn't have stopped her curiosity and worry from showing up again.  
Because what she had thought she would have found was not there anymore, and in the pictures, she had found instead, there was nothing real, but still, for some weird reason, they felt strangely right.  
They had to be montages, because she had never visited a town of that kind with her son.  
Since Phoenix, they had always lived in cities, which could grant them more opportunities, and sadly they hadn't travelled much, so there was no way those pictures could be real.  
Still, she had a strange feeling about them. They sort of...reminded her of something she couldn't define. It was like they were trying to say something to her, or better, like her mind was trying to hear something from them, a sort of silent scream, which apparently should have told her something, but that, honestly, she couldn't recognize.  
They weren't the images themselves; it was more...the atmosphere they inspired, a sort of unexplainable peace in the depth of her heart, a homey feeling, and a constant shiver going from her neck to the top of her spine.  
It seemed to her like there was a message those pictures were trying to send her, a message spread throughout all of them that, if correctly received, would give her all the answers she was searching for, including the reason for the presence of that camera at Neal's place.  
The real reason, not some fable-like one. 

The pictures showed moments which had never happened in her memory, with the two of them in different places in that town, that Storybrooke...what a strange name for a town! Sitting at a diner's table, along with other people she couldn't say she knew...  
There was also a picture of them on a flight from Boston to New York, a flight she had never taken.  
But the thing that had left her more startled was that in one of those pictures, there was also Regina.  
Were they stalking her too? Or she was involved in all of this?  
No, she didn't think so. She knew Regina, she would have never had such company.  
So, why had they kept pulling her into all of that? In order to make that all look more real?  
Didn't they know she hadn't heard from her for years then? Strange, they seemed to know everything about her!  
Really, that madness was starting to drive her insane.  
Surely, they had wanted her to find those pictures, or they wouldn't have placed them there in first place, but why?  
She was there for this exactly. Damn, she had even paid bail in order to understand it!  
And this time, that weirdo dressed-up like a pirate, would tell her everything she wanted to know, or she would make him end up in prison for the rest of his days. 

She spoke as soon as she saw him coming out from the police station, looking at the sky above him.  
"Hey, we need to talk."  
He walked towards her at once, with that usual smirk of his. What a better way to start?  
"Oh Swan, I knew you wouldn't let me rot in that cage. I've been in my fair share of brigs, but none as barbaric as that. They force fed me something called bologna."  
Emma rolled her eyes, allowing him not even a bit of her attention.  
"What the hell are these?" she showed him the pictures.  
"We never lived in a town called Storybrooke. We never took a flight from Boston to New York. We never did any of this."  
She looked at him expectantly.  
"So, you believe me then?"  
Believe him?  
Seriously, what was wrong with this dude?  
"Believe you? Believe in what? Fairytales? These pictures are false, as much as you are.  
Very well photoshopped, I have to admit, but false anyway."  
He looked perplexed.  
"Photoshopped?"  
Of course, what could a pirate knew about photoshop?  
"Fakes."  
He sighed, as the one who had to be exhausted was him...  
" If you think these are forgeries, why did you spring me from the brig? Because as much as you deny it, deep down, you know something's wrong. Deep down, you know I'm right."  
She laughed at that.  
"No offense man, but there is no way I'll ever think you're right."  
He looked at her strangely serious.  
"Oh, if just you remembered... "  
But that voice, mixed with his now darkened eyes, did everything but make her feel comfortable, and she realized that all she wanted right then was for all of this to come to an end. Right then.  
"Ok listen, once and for all, because I'm really sick of all of this. I just want to know what your plan is, nothing more. As we were normal people, something that you clearly aren't. "  
"You still believe I'm working with Neal? Seriously? Listen, with all the due respect, I've never liked your boyfriend that much, ok? When he was a child...it was different. Something bonded us then; we were both alone, and probably part of that bond will remain forever, but...too many years have passed, and right now, I didn't feel like working with him anymore. Especially not since he has been your boyfriend and Henry's father."  
Emma furrowed her brows, more and more perplexed.  
"Let me understand: you knew Neal when you two were children and now you are going after me, casually, while having nothing to do with him? Seriously? And you think I'll ever believe you if you keep telling me lies?"  
"These aren't lies, Swan!" he suddenly shouted.  
Ok, that was enough. She had fought shouting men since she was born, certainly she wasn't going to lose now.  
"Then why did you send me to his apartment? Why did you speak about my past, about my parents and about my family? What's your real aim? Tell me. And do not bring up some fairytales-nonsense because if you do, I'll punch you in the face right here and now, and believe me, you will regret your bologna."  
He sighed again , smoothing his brows with his fingers.  
"Ok Swan, I understand it can be difficult, I really do, but...let's think about it for a moment, ok?  
Neal is Henry's father. If he had wanted to talk to you or to him, he would have had the right to do it..."  
She sharply cut him off.  
"No, he wouldn't. He lost all his rights towards us thirteen years ago."  
"Ok, ok, you're right, but...do you really think he would need me to come to you? I mean...as much as I hate to admit it, unless you have some peculiar taste I don't know about..." he smirked, and Emma's stomach turned.  
"...I guess there is a higher possibility you would have accepted talking with him than...with me, a strange guy you don't even remember, don't you think?" he gestured at himself while speaking, attiring Emma's gaze once again on his weird costume.  
Yeah, he probably had a point.  
"Ok so...let's admit for a moment you are not working with him. Then why? What do you want from me and my son?"  
"Swan, please! I already told you, I..."  
but he stopped, probably seeing her vexed face, and cleared his throat.  
"Ok, listen. Is it really so impossible for you to have forgotten a part of your life?"  
Emma thought about it. She really did, because many times she had wished to forget about some really bad times of her life, but it had never worked, unless...  
Unless it had, and she just didn't know it.  
After all, it was possible, even if she didn't remember having holes in her life's telling.  
"...No, it's not..." she admitted cautiously, eyeing him.  
He went on.  
"So. You may not believe in magic, but what I'm saying isn't so absurd anyway.  
I sent you in that apartment so you could find things which would have helped you remember. I didn't even know about the pictures, but it has been a stroke of luck that you found them. They make it all clearer."  
"Actually, they make it all more unclear. Even if your theory was right...I would have just forgotten things, years or...I don't know, but actually, I remember my whole life pretty well, you know? "  
"Yes, of course you do, because you have new memories to replace the old ones!"  
People kept flowing all around them and for a moment, Emma thought that all she wished was to return to being one of them, lost in the flow and without so many doubts.  
"It's not possible. How could I forget all of this? Gosh, I had...bad times in my life, but also good things, very good things. Good people. How could all of that be wrong?"  
And she hated herself for this, but she noticed she was starting to feel that painful doubt crawling up her spine, inside her head.  
It was terrifying.  
"I promise you there is an explanation."  
"Not one that makes sense."  
She was tired. Very tired of that situation. So tired that she felt her eyes getting suddenly wet and her voice cracking. When she looked in the man's eyes then, she found them different, as if he was really sorry for her, and she didn't know if she had to be more relieved or scared by this.  
"I'm really sorry Emma. I imagine it has to be difficult. But believe me! Whatever life you may have here, it's not worth as much as your real one, I'm sure about this!"  
"And how do you..." she took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down and to keep the tears at bay.  
"How do you know about my life?"  
"I knew you; we were...friends. But...I promise, if you drink this..." he extracted that same vial from his pocket, "everything will finally make sense."  
But everything made less and less sense to Emma, and she just shook her head slightly, looking around searching for an answer in the city's chaos.  
After a few second of silence, she regained composure and looked at him, swallowing.  
"If ...what you're saying is true, I'd have to give up my life here. "  
"It's all leaned on lies!"  
"It's real! And it's pretty good. I have Henry, a job, a guy I love..."  
I had had Regina. And Regina had to be real.  
She saw a strange reaction from him. He looked down, almost in defeat, and then up again at her.  
"Perhaps there's a man that you love in the life that you've lost."  
She eyed him suspiciously. Things were starting to become almost amusing, even if in a very sad way.  
"Don't tell me it's you."  
He stayed silent just a moment before answering.  
"Regardless. If you want to find the truth , drink up. Do you really want to live a life of lies?"  
What lies? Which were the lies? It couldn't be all false, could it?  
"You know this isn't right. Trust your gut, Swan. It will tell you what to do."  
And the terrifying and funny thing was that she had always thought that it was not right. She had always thought that she could never have a life like that, a happiness like the one she had felt with Regina, because she didn't deserve it.  
Henry had been the only right thing in her life. At least about him, she was sure. But all the rest...  
Yes, all that undeserved happiness started to make sense.  
All those gifts, all that blissfulness...  
Regina.  
What was killing her was the piercing doubt that she might have been unreal.  
After all, she had disappeared, hadn't she?  
But there were the pictures, they were real...  
Emma felt her head about to explode. Honestly, she couldn't tell what was real and what was not anymore. Even that moment she was living could have been all in her head, at that point.  
Trust your gut...she smiled weakly.  
"Henry always says that..."  
But even in all that uncertainty, she could tell that was real, that relief she felt every time she thought about her boy. And probably she needed nothing more.  
"Then if you won't listen to me, listen to your boy."  
She grabbed the vial.  
What the hell am I doing?  
Yes, she would. She would listen to her boy, her boy who deep inside still believed in magic.  
As foolish as it could be, she would do it.  
Maybe she was just tired.  
Maybe he was a madman and that was just water.  
Maybe he was a killer and she would be dead or deadly sick in a few moments.  
Trust your gut.  
She took a deep breath and opened the vial. As soon as she did it, a soft scent reached her nose.  
It, at once, evoked fragments of her nighttime dream, and she couldn't explain to herself why.  
But it was a scent she knew, an essence, a charming feeling.  
Something she had experienced before.  
She looked at the man one last time. Then, she emptied the vial in her mouth and, before being able to reconsider her own action, she swallowed its contents.  
Her mind went blank for a moment, and the moment after, she felt like she was falling, deep down in her inner spaces.  
She closed her eyes shut, while a multitude of colors overwhelmed her sight. She was barely able to think she was going to pass out, instead she stood still, and it was the world around her that faded away, with all its people and its noises.  
To give space to a different world, different people, a different life.  
Different memories. Real ones. So real that she wondered how she could have ever believed the others to be truth.  
A lot of images were coming in quick succession behind her eyelids, but each one of them was a moment, a day, a memory, and each one felt like it lasted hours, like she was seeing her whole life in a movie.  
She had given her son away, how could she have ever done that?  
And she had passed whole years alone, like it had always been before. Until, on the day of her twenty-eighth birthday, she hadn't been alone anymore.  
Her son, her little Henry, looking straight at her from the short height of his ten years old body, who spoke and conquered her with his small voice and his sharp intelligence, who gave reality to fairytales, gifting her instead of the only fairytale she had ever dreamt about.  
And then, Regina.  
That one was Regina, the only Regina who had ever existed.  
She would have said her Regina, if the situation had ever allowed her to.  
She was beauty, and power, and strength, and weakness.  
She was freedom, rage, burning fire reflected in her own eyes, body, wildness, sadness.  
A feeling of loss.  
Magic.  
Magic existed. Regina was magic, and Emma had magic too, coursing through her veins, stinging against her skin. There had been magic all around her: dragon, curses, true love kisses, purple hazes, islands lost in the middle of nowhere, flying boys.  
Family. Her family. Her parents she had always searched for. Her son. His other mother.  
Neal. He had come back and he had left again. But then she had found him again, and yes, maybe part of her would never stop loving him, no matter what.  
But he was not the only one anymore.  
There was a constant pang of guilt, fear and longing in that past, in every moment of it. And it hurt like hell.  
There had been the fear of losing her son. She could feel it still devastating her heart and mind, but there had been also something else.  
There had been understanding, come from nothing and turned to ashes. There had been lips, and the feeling of losing what she had never really found.  
And then her umpteenth goodbye.  
She thrust her eyes open.  
"Hook..."  
He smirked.  
"Did you miss me?" 

\---

Two years ago, Storybrooke.

The weeks after their return from the enchanted forest had been a real earthquake of emotions.  
Regina had come to the "welcome back party", they had also taken their first picture together, all the three of them, but things hadn't gone exactly like Emma had wished them to.  
Nonetheless, she was still convinced about giving Regina a second chance, and she always tried to defend her when it was possible. Her parents didn't understand her care for her, how could they? She was trying to get closer to them, even if it was not so easy, and the fact they were totally against Regina didn't help at all.  
It was beautiful, to come back home and find someone waiting for you, finally your parents, to ask you how the day has been. It was really beautiful. She had wished for it for so long that often she couldn't even realize she had it. Still, there was always something else inside of her, a sort of pang of guilt and sadness she didn't know how to explain, but that she knew was strictly bonded with Regina.  
Why did she always have to be so problematic? Why in the hell did she feel guilty and sad for Regina's loneliness, after everything she had done to her and to her family?  
She honestly didn't know.  
Somehow, with the time, she had managed to get over the feeling of guilt and shame about their relationship in the past. After all, she couldn't have known about her real identity, and even less about her actions; but still in the depth of her soul, she knew she hadn't gotten completely over that other strange thing she had felt when she still didn't know the truth, the thing which had made her decide to leave in the first place.  
And that, was disturbing, very disturbing. Because she still couldn't look at Regina without feeling her heart skip a beat and she still had to hate her for everything she had done.  
She was a real mess, like in every situation she ended up in. 

Anyway, when things had gotten bad for Regina, she hadn't needed to think twice before defending her. She was a woman who wanted to change, like Emma herself had said to her father, she honestly didn't believe she would have jeopardized all her efforts for...for what? A speaking-hopper therapist? Not Regina. She was not an impulsive person.  
She had believed in her innocence with every part of her.  
She had wanted, needed, to believe in it, and when she had discovered that falsified truth...it had felt like betrayal. A terrible betrayal.  
She had had to be the one to speak to her, because she had wanted her to see the anger, the broken faith, the betrayal in her own eyes.  
But still Regina defended her own innocence; all she cared about was Henry and having Henry back, and Emma had no intentions of giving Henry back to a murderer.  
Then Regina had struck her and she had felt even more betrayed. Did she really not understand? Did she really have to unload her rage on her of all people? The only one who had believed in her?  
They were right- Emma had thought. Regina was lost and there was no way to save her, not even for the savior.  
So, she had tried speaking to her son, their, son, trying to mend at least the pieces of his heart, which had to feel betrayed too, like she couldn't do with her own.  
In the meantime, Regina had disappeared, and Emma had never been more upset with her than she had been in that moment, not even when they fought both physically and legally.  
Still, things had revealed to be different then, and once again, she had fallen into that circle of guilt and sadness. Regina had been framed and she had acted like everybody else, accusing her and not listening to her words. She had failed in every purpose she had given herself and now Regina was missing, and she had no idea what her own actions might have triggered. 

It was exhausting, really.  
She had never wanted to be nobody's savior, but if she had to, at least she wanted to be a proper one, not one of those supposed "saviors" who acted only to their own advantage.  
Yeah, she had saved her family, but she had never wanted to leave Regina behind, not even then, because she had always known that there was something else inside of her, something so well hidden that probably only Emma herself had been able to see, but wasn't able to ignore.  
But as long as there were no traces of Regina, there was nothing she could do. 

And then, the trip to New York.  
Be damned Mr. Gold or, as they liked to call him, the dark one!  
He was searching for his son, and who might his son had been? Emma had wondered.  
She would have never believed the dark one to have a son. He didn't sound like the most affectionate of fathers anyway. But she was in debt and she didn't like to be, so she had accepted. After all, it should have been just a trip, shouldn't it? A trip to New York with her son, what could have gone wrong?  
Honestly everything, but Emma tried not to think over it too much.  
The real surprise had been when they had arrived in the city and she had discovered that Neal was the dark one's son.  
Emma had been with the dark one's son. And Henry was the dark one's grandson.  
She wondered at that point if he had powers too, if Neal had had power too.  
But honestly, it just felt like the umpteenth betrayal.  
What the hell had her life been? Everything had seriously always circled around all the "being the savior" thing? She had even wondered if Neal had ever really loved her, or if he had been just another means to bring her closer to her "destiny".  
It wasn't right, it wasn't right at all!  
At that point, she had just wanted to talk with Neal. Now she had to know, and she wanted to know directly from him. She deserved a good explanation from him.  
And she had had one, even if it had not been exactly what she had expected. 

He had been told to leave her for her fate's sake, as if it could be enough of a reason.  
She didn't care about her fate, with all the love she could feel for her parents.  
For all her life, she had just wanted to be happy and loved, and even listening to those words coming out of Neal's mouth, she couldn't avoid thinking that if he had really loved her, then, he would not have left her, no matter what.  
She had gone the last twelve years of her life hating him; he could not expect her to forgive everything just because now she knew the truth.  
She still hadn't forgiven him and she probably never would, at least not completely. And probably, if some of the Neal she had loved was still inside him, he would understand.  
Anyway, the problems hadn't ended. Henry now was upset with her because she hadn't told him the truth, and he was right, she had to recognize it, but...gosh, how could everyone demand her to be the best woman, the best mother, the best savior, without even thinking about all the hell she had gone through and was still going through? Didn't they see she was trying to do her best?  
Suddenly, alone on the roof, staring at the New York's skyline, she had thought about Regina.  
Regina had never asked her to be anything. Regina had never expected her to be anything.  
Everything Emma had given to her had been what she had chosen to give her, and this made it all...more true, in some way.  
She had wondered if Regina had gone through those same emotions, some time in her life, before she became what she had been for so long, the Evil Queen.  
Had the weight of everyone's expectations , the other's carelessness for her pain and emotions, been what had changed her so much?  
She wanted to know it, she wanted to get to know Regina actually, her true herself, and she hoped, against all her best advises, that someday Regina would allow her to.  
It wasn't a good thing, she imagined, for the Savior to sympathize with the Evil Queen, her nemesis.  
Yet, she believed they might be more similar than everyone believed them to be, probably even more than they themselves would ever be willing to admit.  
But then things had run once again out of her control and she hadn't had enough time to think about those conflicting feelings. 

Gold had been deadly wounded by an hook and they had had to run back to Storybrooke on a ship.  
Things didn't make sense anymore, not even in the real world, but at least Henry had forgiven her, and that was enough.  
But once back in Storybrooke she had had to fight against Regina, who, probably because of Emma's last behavior towards her, had sided with her terrible and powerful mother against all of them.  
Emma's heart had got broken once again, not because of Regina but because of herself.  
Because Regina was slipping in the darkness once again, after all her past efforts, because of her. 

And then, her mother had killed someone.  
How could Snow White kill someone? But what was worse in Emma's opinion, since she was not a moralist, was that she had made Regina do it on her behalf.  
What sort of hero behavior was that? Wasn't it a little...coward-like from her?  
And Emma knew Regina had killed many people, but that woman was Cora, her mother.  
Sure, Regina herself had told her she hadn't been a great mother and it was probably not a big loss for anyone but... to make someone kill her own mother without even asking for her opinion or will?  
That was rude. And Emma had never thought her mother was able to do something so mean.  
Once again, things were not as she had expected them to be. Once again, Regina was suffering, and no one seemed to care at all.  
Once again, she couldn't blame them.  
So she had tried to get closer to her, when no one could see her, but Regina had just kept her distance, like she didn't want anything to do with her, and Emma had honestly been too tired to fight for her to.  
So, she had just let her go, even if in the depth of her gut, she had felt she was scheming something.  
In fact, she was; once again it was a spell to assure herself Henry's love.  
Really, Regina was not good in relationships.  
Henry had told her that she herself had admitted with him she didn't know how to love very well, and it had to be true.  
How couldn't she understand she just has to wait?  
Henry would have loved her, sooner or later, Emma was sure about it. And even if he wouldn't by his own will, Emma would have encouraged him to. But he must have the opportunity to trust her first.  
And Emma understood perfectly well Regina's fear of losing him, because she had felt that same fear every time she had let him down, but...she had to be patient.  
Luckily enough, Regina had given up on her plan and Henry had given up on his intention to make them all blow up with dynamite. A good day, after all.

But things had to go wrong in that damn town, and right after that, August had almost died after a warning call she couldn't understand totally.  
He had had his life saved, but he had become a child, and in some ways, Emma had felt like she had lost a friend, maybe one of the last who could have really helped her.  
But before losing his memory, he had spoke about a "she", and there was something strange in the air, Emma could feel it.

And then there was Neal's girlfriend.  
She had known her in New York right before leaving and there was something strange about her too, even if no one seemed to be willing to believe her.  
It was funny how she had been the one who hadn't believed before and now everyone refused to believe in her.  
Did they really think a woman's thoughts had to be led only by jealousy and feelings? It was frustrating.  
And it was also a little presumptuous of Neal to believe that Emma could still feel something towards him after what he had done.  
Did she? Probably. Sometimes she looked at him and she just saw their happy moments, their follies, their promises and their love.  
Sometimes instead, she just saw the man who had abandoned her, pregnant, in prison, paying for his crime, fate aside.  
Anyway her concerns towards that Tamara were dictated by something else, something which was probably related with her lie detector. She smelled like lies.  
Luckily, there was her son to believe her.  
During the investigation they had done, trying to discover what Tamara was hiding, she had felt again close to him like she had in her first days in Storybrooke, and she had wondered how could she have ever thought to leave him.  
She would never again, it didn't matter the price nor the consequences. Henry was the only certainty she had. 

In those days, she also discovered that the town wanted to leave in order to go back to the enchanted forest. They were hiding a field of magic beans to create a portal.  
The enchanted forest was the place they belonged, she had never belonged to any place so she probably couldn't understand them, but she knew she didn't want to live there.  
The enchanted forest...really? Living in medieval hygienic conditions and having to fight ogres and strange creatures every day? She liked her twenty-first century advantages, thank you very much.  
She knew she was not going to accept it, and even if she hated to admit it, she was scared her parents would go anyway, with or without her.  
Were they going to abandon her too? Her real parents?  
It wouldn't have been a surprise for her, but surely a great pain.  
Still, she was too proud, or maybe just too scared, to ask them, so she decided she wouldn't say anything about it until the moment would come.

And one day, while she was reading that strange storybook, which held their stories,again, something had happened: Regina had been the one to search for her.  
She was sitting on a bench near the harbor and Regina reached her, sitting on the next bench. Not too far and not too close. If she hadn't known better, she would have thought Regina still felt something towards her of what there had been. The truth was that, wrongdoings and all, Emma still missed her, even if she had been too distracted by the events to think about it, and still hated how distant they had become.  
Regina had asked her about Neal, and Emma would have stabbed herself in that moment if she had had the opportunity.  
How could she not have thought about that?  
She had brought Henry's father into town, she was letting him have time with him, and the thought of explaining it to Regina had never even crossed her mind.  
How could she ask to know her or to even get along with her if she acted like a selfish coward?  
Anyway, she had tried to place some excuses; she had tried to assure her that he was not going to stay, that he just wanted to know his son and then he would go away again but...she honestly didn't believe her own words either. How can she be sure about it?  
Neal and Henry seemed to like each other pretty much.  
How could Regina ever be sure about it? After all, Emma herself had come into her town with the excuse of knowing him and then had remained there forever.  
How did Regina have to feel, now that the biological parents of her son could take him away from her forever, after all she had done to gain his affection?  
But they were not his real parents, Emma now understood it. Regina was the only real parent Henry had. They had just been his creators, passengers in his life, cowards who had placed him in the world without even taking the responsibility to raise him. And they would always be only that: passengers. They had to.  
She had tried to assure that to Regina trying to not sound too sorry or guilty.  
She had tried, instead, to push her to give Henry everything she had, before it was too late, before Henry could chose to leave her to follow the rest of his family.  
Although, honestly, she didn't think she would ever go with them, and that meant than Henry wouldn't either.  
Anyway, Regina had smelled something suspicious in her words.  
Regina had always been able to understand her real intentions in her words, and this had always scared her.  
No one had told her about their plans to go back. It would be useful to none of them, actually, but that seemed a little bit rude to Emma that they would have taken away her son without even letting her know. Or worst, they would also bring her with them, from what she knew, only to put her in prison and leaving her there, alone, paying for her crimes.  
Yes, she was evil and probably she deserved it, but...she was also a mother. A mother who loved her son.  
Yet, she couldn't reveal everybody's plan if they didn't want to, as wrong as it might seem to her, while she looked at Regina walking away, probably even more worried than before.  
And she didn't even know why, but in that moment, she felt such a need to protect her and her son.  
She decided that, no matter what they would say, she wouldn't allow them to take away Regina, nor Henry.  
And it was just for a brief moment, but she found herself thinking about how it could have been, just the three of them there, in Storybrooke, in the real world, safe and sound.  
But those were absurd thoughts that she should have not even have, so she never lingered again on them.  
Instead, she came back trying to make everyone understand that there was something weird and dangerous about Tamara, but it ended up in another useless effort. Not even her parents believed in her.

Until Regina disappeared.  
Emma got to know, by Mary Margaret, that she had discovered about their plan to go back.  
They had found that same day their magical beans field burnt and obviously everyone had pointed the finger towards her and the fact she was missing didn't help at all.  
This time Emma had to wondered too if Regina could have been the one to do it.  
After all, she couldn't totally blame her, but she felt there was still something else. There was a missing piece in all of that, and a growing feeling of danger, weirdly more and more bonded to Tamara.  
And Emma was almost sure that Regina had not disappeared willingly. 

To avoid the worst from happening, her mother had decided to use a spell to find her.  
It would never stop surprising Emma how many strange things magic could do.  
Mary Margaret had almost...entered Regina's body, as freaky as it might seem.  
And the fear Emma had heard in her father's voice when he had spoken to her on the phone to tell her what they had discovered had made her blood drain from her face.  
What the hell were they doing to Regina?  
Surely something terribly painful, and she knew without any doubts by then that Tamara was involved.  
She had to be.  
Emma had wanted to hear no reason.  
She had to find her; she had to save her, because if Regina would die...she would have never been anybody's savior.  
Fortunately, for once, her parents seemed to agree. She thought she would have never been more thankful. 

They had understood Regina was kept at the warehouse in the harbor, and once inside Emma had accepted that her father went searching for Regina.  
She would have preferred to do it by herself, but she had to find Tamara. She had to make her pay for what she had done to Regina, whatever it might have been, and she knew no one else would be as rough as herself.  
But things got bad, she was beaten; Neal was deadly wounded and, as if it wasn't enough, a huge, green portal opened right then under his feet. Emma had been there, she had tried to save him, but it had been useless, and once again she had looked at her love being ripped from her hands. He had told her he loved her still, she had shouted she loved him still too, but also that had been useless.  
True love was the most powerful magic of all, wasn't it? Then why it hadn't saved Neal?  
Could what they had be considered true love? Maybe not, or maybe that was just rubbish.  
Either way, Neal had slipped away, and she could do nothing to save him.  
As a savior, it looked like she could save everybody but the ones she cared the most about.  
At least they had arrived in time to save Regina. She had been electro shocked. She was unconscious but alive, and that was enough to Emma.  
They had brought her in their house, and, to Emma's surprise, Mary Margaret had let her sleep in her bed. She had also nursed her, something that had warmed Emma's heart, at least a bit.  
She needed Regina, then more than ever. Henry needed her, now that his father had died.  
Honestly, it was too much to bear all by herself.  
That night, her parents had gone to sleep at Granny's, while she had insisted that she remain there looking after Regina in the night with Henry, who had looked sincerely worried about his mother's health.  
But while Henry had fallen asleep in his bed pretty soon after, Emma had taken a chair and had sat by Regina's side, staring at her and studying her features like she had never had the chance to do, while thinking about all the events of the day.  
Regina's dark hair barely covered two red marks on her temples, her breath was irregular and, from time to time, she released shaky soughs which made Emma's heart flinch every time.  
She looked to be dreaming or something. Emma thought it was more likely to be a nightmare, seen how disturbed she looked and how her fists clenched the bed sheet.  
Some other times instead, she went completely still, and Emma could feel her own heart starting to race in fear. She was terrorized by the possibility of seeing her chest cease its movements more than anything else. She didn't want Regina to die. She could not die.  
And while she waited and feared, she couldn't stop her search for a culprit for all of that, even for a moment, and most of the times that culprit ended to be she herself.  
She should have acted sooner; she should have imposed her opinion even if no one wanted to believe her; she should have been more near her; she should not have left her alone.  
Regina had been tortured and it had been all her fault.  
And, Neal had died, and it had been all her fault.  
It was terrible; she could feel her own heart clenched in a grip of pain, sadness and guilt, and she couldn't see how she would climb out of it. 

Suddenly Regina had moved in another one of her spasms and a lock of her hair had winded up on her eyes.  
She had swallowed, and couldn't help her hand reaching for it and moving it away from her eyes in a gentle touch, which looked more like a caress.  
Regina had had another spasm and she had thought she was going to wake up and to kill her, seeing her like this, but instead, she kept on sleeping, giving Emma the courage to repeat the movement again. She kept caressing her forehead until she calmed completely, and then came back to just staring at her.  
She was beautiful; she looked almost fragile, vulnerable more than she had ever seemed, with her long eyelashes, which created delicate games of shadows on her face lightened only by the moonlight.  
And this was strange, but at the same time, terribly charming, and Emma just couldn't stop staring.  
But not even Regina's incredible beauty could keep her distant from her thoughts.  
Why had she been so worried about her safety? Why was she still?  
They had just been secret lovers who didn't even love each other, right?  
Just women hungry of lust and fight.  
And then, she had lost Neal, this time probably forever. She didn't know where he had gone, and she didn't know if he was still alive. Maybe she just didn't want to lose anyone else, this was the reason for her worry.  
Still, Regina should not have been someone for her. She should have been an enemy, even if Emma had known since too long by then that she had never been.  
But she had found Neal anyway; she should have been thinking about him, not about her.  
But it was unavoidable by then: every one of her thoughts ended up with Regina. And she hated that.  
But, thinking more over it, she realized something very important.  
Yes, she had shouted l she loved Neal. It had still, been true; she thought that probably part of her would love him forever, but...he wasn't her "true love" anymore.  
Not that she had a new one, but the thing was that Neal had been the true love of her youth and of the girl she had been; then, he had been everything she needed at that time.  
But now, she was a woman, not a girl anymore, a different person, shaped on pain and loss, and she thought that Neal just couldn't have given her what she really needed anymore.  
But it was neither his fault, nor hers, it was just...life.  
And it was probably better this way, now that he had died. Probably, in this way, she would have suffered less. Probably.  
But soon her attention was brought back to Regina, who had started moving again convulsively, even if her eyes had never left her.  
Regina couldn't leave her now, she couldn't.  
And there were no way Emma was going to leave her side that night, she decided.  
So, she got closer with her chair and, a little hesitantly, she took her hand within hers, gently releasing her grip on the bed sheets, and held it. It was a bit cold, which scared Emma, but on the other hand, her motions calmed, and her breath steadied itself, and she could sigh in relief. 

They stayed that way all night long. Emma fell asleep on her wooden chair, the thing that would cost her terrible aches in her back the day after, but she didn't care.  
She just held her hand, finding in that contact a closeness she felt they both were needed in that moment.  
When the first lights of the day had hit their face the morning after, Emma had woken up and had noticed that her fingers and Regina's had intertwined themselves during the night. At that sight, she had felt an irrational fear and had put distance between them, trying not to think about the previous night's conclusions and forcing herself to concentrate on how they would get rid of the two who were still threatening Storybrooke.  
Their town.  
After a few hours, Regina had woken up. When she had seen her, she had stared at her for a moment in a weird way, before explaining that destroying Storybrooke was the plan of the two who had tortured her.  
Regina had said something else, but she hadn't listened, captured by her eyes.  
There was a broken look in them, and that hurt.

In the end, Regina had decided to sacrifice herself for the whole town.  
She didn't deserve it, Emma was sure about it, and the town itself didn't deserve it.  
She had tried to convince Regina to give up, but her answer had hurt her so much that she just hadn't known how to reply. She wanted her redemption, after all; she wanted to die as a hero, as Regina, and there was nothing better waiting for her (even if Emma was sure that there could have been).  
It would have been her way to finally get rid of the past, which kept on torturing her, and Emma couldn't stop her from doing it because she wasn't completely sure it would have been the right thing to do.  
Regina had the right to decide. All those people had the right to survive.  
And Regina had created that city and that "security system" so she deserved to die for all of them; this was what they thought.  
This was what Regina herself thought. But not Emma.  
For Emma, it just wasn't right.  
It wasn't right that the person who would save them all and would die for this had to be Regina and not the savior. It wasn't right to have to lose her too.  
If just she had known how to stop that...diamond from exploding, she would have done it herself without hesitations.  
Damn magic, damn Tamara and Greg, damn Storybrooke!  
Damn herself, who didn't know how to protect the ones she loved.  
But in that mine, in front of Regina, she had found her feet stuck on the ground.  
How could she really let that all happen? How could she really let Regina be there alone, sacrificing herself?  
Why did it have to be the right thing? It wasn't.  
Even just for the responsibility Regina was showing, taking that burden, it wasn't right.  
But she knew she could do nothing to avoid it. It was an imposed, but needed, sacrifice; the town had already decided.  
And she had no power, because she may have been the savior, but she wasn't saving anyone in that moment.  
So, she could just stare at her. One last time. And she intended to make it last as long as possible. 

Regina was beautiful, with tears forcefully kept within her eyes; she was powerful, magically holding that diamond between her hand; she was strong, fighting to stand still facing that force, which would have killed her; she was magical, lightened up by the blue light of the diamond, mixed with her own purple magic; and she was fragile, sending short glances to Emma from time to time, as she was searching for the approval of her only ally and friend.  
And for a brief moment, everything became clear in Emma's mind: she loved her.  
She had fallen in love with Regina Mills, and maybe it had happened long time before.  
"Regina..." she had whispered, calling her as a hopeless soul.  
She should have gotten closer, she should have kissed her goodbye, she should have told her.  
Instead, Emma ran away. As the coward she was and always had been, she just ran away.  
Because kissing her, or telling her, would have meant accepting it. And accepting it, when her death was unavoidable by then, would have meant losing once again the one she loved.  
Emma couldn't.  
So, she had turned her back and had run away, feeling her heart breaking in a million pieces for the umpteenth time.  
She hadn't even known which miracle to thank for having still been in time when they had come back.  
For having the chance to see her alive one more time.

And only then, seeing Henry say goodbye to her, she had realized that if it wasn't right for her, she wouldn't have let it happen.  
It didn't matter anymore, to live or die. It didn't matter. She was the savior, that was her task. And she had to save everybody, without exceptions.  
And if she couldn't save everybody because they had lost their last chance to do it, she would die with Regina. But she would not leave her alone.  
"You may be not strong enough, but maybe we are"  
she had told her before joining her with her own magic.  
Regina had looked at her, astounded, and Emma had returned her gaze, hoping that it would have been enough, hoping that she wouldn't have needed other words show what she was feeling, why she was doing that. Also, because Emma found something more than astonishment in Regina's eyes, and she wasn't sure she was ready to hear, let alone to ask, what that was. 

Doing that magic had hurt like hell and had completely drained her, and she hadn't even realized how she had been capable of doing it, but in the end it worked.  
It worked, they did it.  
And Regina was alive. Emma had wanted to hug her, kiss her and hold her forever for the relief she had been feeling.  
She was alive.  
But apparently, in that town, time for breathing didn't exist, because after a moment, Henry had been kidnapped.  
She thought that, despite everything that had happened, neither herself nor Regina had ever felt a feeling of fear like that.  
They had run as fast as they could, but it had been useless. Before they could reach him, Henry was already gone in a portal to goddess-knows-where.  
And Emma had felt so tired and so frustrated that she had just wanted to jump after him, be damned the consequences.  
But it would have been useless, and she knew it, and fortunately someone, her father, had kept her back.  
Thanks to Gold (who would have thought it?) they had found him pretty soon, and thanks to that traitor pirate, they had opened another portal.  
It had been in this way that they had ended up in Neverland, the place where their boy had been brought. 

And Neverland was a mixture of all the oddities Emma had witnessed until then and so much more.  
Every day spent there seemed like an eternity to her, an eternity far from her son, during which she didn't know where he was, if he was ok, or if he was even alive. It was torturing her.  
Regina must be suffering terribly too, because she had closed herself in a shield that no one could trespass or even touch without getting bitten. And it hurt Emma a little, if she had to be honest, because she had thought that after everything they had been through in those last days, after everything they had shared and still shared, they would have faced that desperation, that loss, that terrible pain and fear together. Instead, Regina had just turned cold again, and she had neither the strength nor the will to fight to make her open up. She had even ended up treating her with the same coldness, as she was doing with everybody after all in those days, because she was scared, and she had turned angry.  
And maybe she was being weak, because she knew Regina was suffering too and that was just her way to face it, but it took too much energy to think about how to solve also their "relationship", if she could even call it that.  
If she had had to be honest with herself, she would have admitted that her behavior hurt her even more because of what she thought she saw in her eyes in the mine.  
What she had, even if for a short time, realized, seemed to be vanished.  
But what had been in that gaze was what probably scared them both even more, so she had given up on it, hiding behind their urge to save Henry.  
Because, it didn't matter what could happen, Henry was everything for the both of them. 

\---  
One year ago, Neverland

That island was pure magic and wilderness. Emma had never thought the so called "lost boys" would be evil; instead, there she was, fighting with them.  
Tamara and Greg had disappeared; Gold had taken his way too.  
But what really happened to them there every day was too much to be told, remembered or even just understood. She was just acting on impulse, working towards her main priority, finding her son.  
And she really couldn't understand why her parents and that...Hook, who was trying to get to her in a wearying way, were thinking of so many other things.  
Henry was the priority, and that was all. And yes, she would also help Regina in her way of getting the results, if it showed to be more useful than the ones they were following as "heroes".  
It didn't matter to Emma to be a hero or act in a heroic way, she just wanted her son back, just like Regina did.  
And this often brought them closer to each other than anybody else.  
If they just could have talked, if Regina had finally chosen to stay by her side in all of that...  
At least they agreed on one thing: it was their son, and exactly for that reason, Emma thought that the only way to find him was acting together. But Regina kept her distance, she tried to teach her magic and then ran out of patience and left her with nothing, making her feel nothing, and Emma was getting tired of all of that.  
The magic she could feel running through her veins was powerful in Neverland; she had never felt it in that way, and when Regina was near to her...she could feel it almost burning her skin, pushing to go out.  
Maybe it felt Regina's magic, wanted to intertwine with it, but Emma just didn't know how to let it flow.  
She was too involved in all that was happening, too scared, too ashamed of failing that she just...failed.  
She always let Regina down and, more importantly, she let herself down, feeling useless in Henry's saving.  
That whole situation honestly sucked. 

She had even...given in to a kiss with that pirate, Killian, Hook or whatever the hell his name was, and honestly, she didn't know why she had done it.  
It had been a strange night (even if it was always night there), her father had healed with his help and she had felt thankful to him. But honestly, that had not been the main reason why she had kissed him.  
She had been lost in thoughts about Regina that night, about their path, about everything they had shared. She had kept on wondering why she still acted like that, what she really did fear, how she could have helped her.  
She had seen her often tortured by strong headaches. She had never told her anything because she was more than sure that underlining a weakness of hers would have brought nothing good, but she had noticed it. They were probably caused by the electroshock she had endured; anyway, they must be very painful, because every time Regina had one of them, she went to hide somewhere. And, even if Emma was desperately trying to hate her, in those moments she felt her heart ache; she couldn't help it. 

When she had been left alone with Killian, speaking about things she didn't even remember, one thing had captured her attention. When he had got closer to kiss her, she had told him he couldn't have handled it and she had been referring to all of herself, all the pain she brought inside, all the needs she had, just all the person she was. He couldn't have handled it.  
Maybe only one person could have, and she was not him.  
But when he had told her that maybe she couldn't have handled it, she knew he had been talking about himself, but all she had been able to think about had been Regina.  
Maybe he was right. Maybe she couldn't have handled her. Maybe the reason for all of the difficulties between herself and Regina was that Regina was too much, and she was not enough for her. Maybe it was right. Maybe.  
But she had no intention of finding out, because she wouldn't feel like she was not enough anymore.  
So, she had kissed Killian, because yes, she could handle him.  
And she had tried to ignore the rustle of leaves near them. 

Later that night, or day, or whatever it was there, she was left alone during her guard duty, and in the silence of everyone's sleep, she had space for thoughts. And, after all, she regretted that kiss.  
But soon, she felt some noises, a sort of hiss, and she understood she was not the only one awake.  
In fact, not much time later, she saw Regina standing up and, with a couple of suspecting glances, distancing herself from the others.  
And Emma knew she was on guard, but she was sure she could have kept guarding them from a little farther, so she silently followed Regina.  
When she found her, by the roots of a large tree, she was holding her head with her hands, her eyes closed shut, and Emma was sure she was under another one of those terrible migraine attacks.  
She took a couple of tentative steps towards her, unsure if it was better to leave her alone or to get closer, but knowing this would probably be her only opportunity to talk with her alone, to try to understand, maybe, what was really going on inside and between them. 

However, only after another minute, she attempted to show herself and to speak.  
"Regina...are you ok?" she asked with a drop of worry in her voice.  
Regina jumped in place and raised her head as soon as she heard her voice, parading indifference, even if Emma could still see how she barely stifled a grimace of pain.  
"Yes..." she answered, with a slightly shaking voice, clearing her throat right after, trying to steady it.  
"I'm fine. What are you doing here?"  
But Emma didn't mean to give up. Regina was lying and she knew it.  
"Don't lie to me. I know you're not alright. It's your head, right?" she took a few steps further.  
"My head is perfectly well, Miss Swan, do worry about yours!" she whispered angrily, and Emma wondered what she had really done then to deserve that treatment.  
She reached her, keeping herself a couple of steps away.  
"Are we back to Miss Swan now?"  
"What does it change to you?" Regina asked, annoyed.  
Emma shrugged.  
"I don't know, maybe it makes me wonder why right now, after everything that had happened, you treat me again like the intruder in your town and your worst enemy."  
She struggled to keep her voice low to not awake all the others.  
"Why, have you ever been something more than that?"  
Emma's jaw dropped in disbelief. How could she say that?  
"How can you...after all that I...that we..." she honestly couldn't find the words.  
She was offended. And hurt.  
"After what, Emma? What have you done for me? Have you saved me, no, the whole town, from that killing diamond? Ok, thank you! You are the savior, aren't you? Saving this town is your job.  
Did you had pity for me when you could have let me rot in a cage or be killed? Thank you, always the savior. You know what? I'm tired of this show. I'm tired of being the only one accused and cursed when everyone here has their own faults. You said you had faith in me, you made me believe in something for the first time, and then, when things had become too difficult for you to handle, you just disappeared and betrayed me like everyone else has always done. But, you know what? I don't even care about it, I don't care about you, I don't need you, Emma.  
I've fought alone for all my life; I can still do it. I've been framed, hurt, betrayed, deprived of the only person who mattered to me, tortured. Now I don't even know where my son is or if he is ok, or even if he is still alive.  
I don't care about your problems or about how you feel you're treated.  
Let's be honest, we have never meant anything to each other. We have had fun and that's all.  
But now, it's all over; now you are the Savior and I'm again the Evil Queen, and there is no way the Evil Queen could want to be by the Savior's side."  
Regina's eyes closed shut after that outburst and for a couple of moments, the noises of the jungle around them were all that remained.  
But then Emma spoke. And she didn't care about Regina's headache, she was just feeling the need to reply.  
Because, whatever Regina might think, she was tired too.  
"Oh really? You are tired? And what about me? Have you ever thought about what all of this means for me? My life sucked. I have never been anything for anyone. I have never owed anything to anyone.  
It have always been me and myself. I was the only one I had to care about and, you know, you know why I had to give Henry away? Because I was sure I couldn't keep responsibility for anyone else on my shoulders.  
And now I find myself struck in this situation, in the role of the "Savior".  
I have to save everyone; I have to do things in the best way because I'm the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming; I have to be the good example, and everything, everything, is on me.  
Do you have any idea of how it feels? I've never wanted any of this, and this is all because of you!"  
Regina gave her such a glare that she would have been scared if she hadn't been so angry at her.  
"I didn't create that curse, I didn't make you the Savior, and most of all, I didn't put you in a closet, leaving you alone to face your destiny.  
You know what I believe? That you had to be the Savior because Rumpelstiltskin had decided so and had put you inside the curse. You would have become the Savior at twenty-eight even if you had been under it. Sure, maybe in that case, I would have had the privilege of killing you before."  
Her words were getting Emma more and more upset.  
"You have no right to criticize my parents' actions! Not after what you have done!"  
Regina seemed to suddenly lose every interest in the conversation. She let her shoulders fall.  
"Whatever. Talking to you is as useless as talking to your parents. Go guard them and leave me alone."  
She turned her back to her in order to move even further away from that spot, but Emma grabbed her wrist first, causing her to turn again, her brows furrowed.  
"Let me go."  
"No. Now you listen to me."  
Emma felt her fingers burning where they were touching Regina's skin, so she let go of her wrist, keeping her in place just with her eyes and the deep gaze in them.  
Regina crossed her arms, glaring at her.  
"I've found myself stuck in this situation, in this world I don't recognize anymore. I discovered I have magic. I've seen things that I couldn't even...imagine, before. And..."  
She took a breath, speaking now more calmly.  
"...and everyone asked me to be the savior, to act in the best way, and I...I was scared. And I had no idea how I was going to face all of that.  
And now I'm still scared because Henry has been ripped from me, from us, and I don't know how or if I will be able to save him. And this is killing me slowly. "  
Regina lowered her eyes, losing a bit of her aggression.  
Emma swallowed, barely crossing her gaze.  
"Listen, I know I've made some mistakes..."  
The other raised suddenly a brow, sadly amused.  
"Some?"  
"Ok, a lot of mistakes, but... I've thought you...would have been able to understand. Maybe you are the only one who can."  
Now Regina was looking at her straight in the eyes, and speaking suddenly became difficult.  
"We are similar, Regina. Even if we hate to admit it."  
She looked away.  
"You don't know me. I'm not like you."  
Emma sighed and shook slightly her head, "no, you're not like me. But I know you know me probably like only Henry does. And this makes you able to understand me, as I know you, or at least everything I need to know about you in order to understand you."  
Regina didn't answer, letting her gaze wander around.  
"Why are you saying these things?" she asked then, out of the blue.  
"Because...I want to apologize."  
The dark-haired one looked at her.  
"It's not true."  
Damn her and the way in which she was able to see inside her eyes.  
"No, it isn't. I want to understand why you are acting like this. I want to understand why you had turned cold again and you are keeping me away from you."  
Regina didn't answer and Emma attempted a small smile.  
"We were a good team before...with that diamond. We are pretty powerful together, you said it yourself."  
Regina snorted rolling her eyes.  
"You don't even try to learn how to use your magic."  
"I am trying, Regina. It's easy for you, you have always lived with it!"  
"I've not always lived with it."  
And there was a pang of sadness in her voice, which Emma didn't want to investigate further.  
"Anyway, you have to give me time."  
"We don't have time, Emma!"  
The blonde lowered her gaze.  
"I know... but...I just thought that together, maybe..."  
Regina grinned sadly, slightly shaking her head.  
"This is the reason why I'm keeping you away from me Emma. I can't give you what you want. I can't be what you need me to be. "  
"I don't..." but her words faded-out as she realized they had both understood what Regina was talking about.  
Why?  
"Why? Regina, I...can't face this alone. This is too much for me. You are the only one who...can understand how I'm feeling now, because I'm sure you are feeling the same, maybe even worse. "  
Regina looked up and took a step back, opening her arms.  
"And what can I do for you, Emma? I have no idea of how we are going to save him." her eyes sharpened in a threatening sparkle.  
"Besides, you are not alone. You have your parents, your boyfriend." she spat out the last word.  
"I'm sure they can understand you even better than I can."  
Emma rolled her eyes.  
"What are you trying to say? My boyfriend? Are you jealous?"  
Regina scoffed at her words.  
"Don't be ridiculous. I just think you shouldn't let yourself get distracted by a love story right now."  
"He is not my boyfriend and I don't have any love stories. Actually, I'm already distracted by something else, right now." Emma retorted.  
"Oh, and what is it?"  
"You."  
They both fell silent for a few moments, as the brunette tore away her gaze.  
"You seemed pretty focused, actually, while you were kissing him."  
Emma rolled her eyes,"Of course, you saw us kissing."  
"Well, you're not invisible, Emma." Regina retorted, casually.  
"Quite the contrary, actually. And you don't know how to be silent."  
"And you don't know what the word 'privacy' means!"  
Regina's eyes widened slightly in disbelief.  
"Privacy? Emma, we are on a magical, very dangerous island lost in the sky, searching for our kidnapped son. Do you think I care about your 'privacy'?"  
As if Emma didn't know it.  
"Of course, you don't care about anything and anyone." she fired back, and maybe it came out a little more evilly than how she had wanted it to be, but she didn't care.  
Regina just shrugged.  
"Maybe. I guess it's true. I only care about Henry. Surely not about you or that...pirate."  
In a different situation- Emma thought- the disgust she could hear in Regina's voice when she talked about him would have been even amusing.  
"Besides," Regina continued, "you're not the one who can talk about 'privacy', since you followed me here and you refused to leave me alone more than once."  
Well, maybe she had a point, but she hadn't come there to talk about Hook or to argue with her.  
"Regina...can't we just...stay in the same space for five minutes without arguing?"  
"I'm sure we can. We have done many things in five minutes, staying in the same space, but I'm not sure that was not arguing too."  
Emma looked bewildered. Maybe because she hadn't expected an answer like that from Regina. She didn't expect that she had accepted what there had been between them at all.  
Anyway, that was neither the place nor the time to discuss it, not when her parents lie asleep a few meters from them.  
"Goddess, Regina! I'm not talking about that! " Emma shook her head." You are impossible."  
"And you are a coward!" she answered, tearing her to shreds.  
"I'm a coward? What?!" Emma looked at her astonished. That woman really never stopped surprising her.  
"Why am I a coward?"  
Regina looked almost exasperated.  
"Why did you kiss him?!"  
"I...I don't...wait, didn't you just say you don't care?"  
"Oh, shut up!"  
Regina tore away her own gaze while Emma kept on watching her, searching for any signs of her real emotions on her face. There was regret, there was pain and sadness. Also, a bit of shame on the slightly reddened cheeks.  
So, she felt the need to talk, and at the same time, she felt suddenly deprived of all her bravado.  
"I...I did it because he made me realize I couldn't handle it."  
Regina, quizzical and pretty amused, raised a brow.  
"You couldn't handle him? Please! You could handle ten of him and have still enough temper or...stomach for someone else like him."  
"Not him. I mean, that's what he meant, but I wasn't talking about him. I was talking about this."  
She gestured to the space between them. Regina's eyes suddenly darkened.  
"What can't you handle Swan? Be clear, please."  
"I can't handle this, what is between us. I think it's...too much for me."  
Regina's gaze was incomprehensible. She remained silent for a few moments before starting to speak.  
"You know, when I was married to your grandfather, I thought I couldn't handle it too. The other people made me believe that. It don't mean it was true, and in fact it wasn't."  
Emma was staring at her interested, maybe also a little surprised that she was opening up about her past.  
Of course, knowing that the woman she had slept with had been her grandfather's wife still bothered her a little, but she guessed she should have gotten used to it, after all.  
Now, however, she wanted to know more. She suddenly felt closer to that hoped possibility of knowing her, and she wasn't going to lose it. She just hoped it wouldn't be too painful for Regina, because Emma had never meant to hurt her.  
"You couldn't handle...what?" she asked, cautiously .  
Regina smiled sadly, without daring to look her in the eyes.  
"Not him, do not misunderstand me, but his reign, the role I had in it, a role which had been Queen Eva's before. They all took every occasion to remind me I couldn't be a queen like her; I couldn't replace Snow's mother because I was too young, too unfit to reign, too introverted. No one ever tried to make me feel better or included in the' fairytale world', which was their court.  
And I really believed I couldn't, until the day when I had enough. From the depth of my misery, locked in my room by my 'husband', I understood it wasn't true.  
I could be a better ruler than all of them. I could be free like no one wanted me to be. I could be powerful.  
I realized I had a strength growing inside me no one had ever seen.  
And I had magic. Magic, made me able to handle all of that and even more.  
But above all I had myself. And with those two different kind of strength matched, I ruled my kingdom, I led armies, I conquered and terrorized entire populations.  
I became someone. I became free."  
Regina looked so fierce saying those things, that Emma could feel a shiver run down her spine.  
She was so regal, that suddenly Emma had no more doubts that she had been a queen.  
She was studying her deeply, left without the courage to reply for a few moments.  
Her parents, especially her mother, had told her things about Regina: she had been married, Snow's father had never really accepted her after Queen Eva, and at his death, she had become the only ruler of Misthaven.  
But Emma suspected there was so much more about her story that no one knew or rather, no one wanted her to know. After all, she knew how things went in those times. She had seen enough movies to know it, and she was sure that reality must have been so much worse.  
Not hearing any answers, Regina went on, and Emma almost felt the regret for that confession in her voice.  
"Anyway, I'm telling you this just to say that there aren't things you can handle and things you can't. There is just you, your feelings and your will. And, if you are lucky enough to have it, your magic."  
Emma glanced at her.  
"I'm sure you would have been able to handle it even without magic."  
Regina looked at her almost surprised, a sparkle in her eyes, but she said nothing about it.  
"Anyway, this is not the same. I don't know even...what there is to handle here."  
the blonde admitted, lowering her eyes.  
The other lowered her eyes too but spoke again.  
"Because maybe it means you don't want to even try." and there was a vaguely note of disappointment in her tone.  
"Once in my life, I had the opportunity to find my true love, to finally live my happy ending. I thought I couldn't handle it, but it wasn't true. I ran away because I didn't want to handle it, because I still needed revenge before a happy ending. "  
Emma wondered what she was talking about, but she didn't dare to ask it. Or to interrupt her.  
"You're right, there is nothing to handle at all here. All I want to say is that I don't want to hear that you can't. Because that's just hypocrisy. "  
So why had Regina cared so much about that subject if she insisted on saying there was nothing to handle, that she was nothing to her and that what they had meant nothing?  
Wasn't she the first who didn't want to try to handle it?  
What should Emma do? The first step? Or maybe the last one?  
She was sure about one thing: Regina would always remain the biggest mystery she had ever met.  
And she was going to ask her once again why she acted that way, as useless as it could be, when Regina had another migraine attack, stronger than all the others she had had before.  
This one, made her almost fall on the large roots of the tree.  
Emma quickly reached her, all the previous questions and thoughts totally forgot.  
"Regina!" she lowered next to her and dared to touch her arm. She immediately pulled back, leaving her astounded.  
Emma didn't say anything and just stayed there, waiting for the worst to pass.  
When Regina succeeded in opening her eyes again, she met Emma's worried gaze, and somehow her limbs slightly relaxed.  
"Regina, are you ok?"  
She shook her head and then nodded, swallowing.  
"I'm alright."  
"Well, I wouldn't say so. Please, talk to me, tell me what's wrong. I just want to help."  
Regina looked at her with an unreadable expression, then just looked away, at the jungle surrounding them.  
"It's just...I've had these sudden migraines since the electroshock and they leave me almost powerless."  
She was whispering, like she was telling a terrible secret no one had to know, and Emma felt somehow honored to be the only one who could hear it.  
"I can't use my magic right after one of those and..." she tried to light a purple flame on her hand, but she only succeeded in generating a few sparkles, which soon faded into the night.  
"...and I fear I'll have one of them right when we will be saving Henry and I won't be able to protect him."  
And her voice sound so small that Emma felt her own heart clench with sadness and tenderness and something else she couldn't describe. And at the same time, she understood why Regina was acting that way.  
She was scary. Terrorized, even.  
"I'm so sorry Regina..." she whispered.  
Looking at the brunette's face, she saw her hair covering her eye and she just felt the need to brush the lock aside, touching her forehead slightly just like she had done the night after her torture.  
This motion made Regina's eyes dart back to her, almost alarmed.  
"...I shouldn't have let them do that to you." Emma ended, still looking at her.  
And Regina's eyes almost liquefied in front of Emma's, but just for a moment.  
Then she stood up abruptly, smoothing the wrinkles on her clothes.  
"I'm alright, I have endured worst things. Anyway, you don't have to worry. I trust my powers, they won't leave me when we need them." she ended once again with a sharp voice and a thick shield ahead of her.  
"Regina, please, don't do that!" Emma almost pleaded, standing up by her side.  
Why did she always have to run?  
"Do what, Emma?" she snapped back, annoyed.  
"Don't run away every time I get close to you, don't run away from me! We need each other in all of this! Maybe we couldn't handle a..." she took a breath"...a relationship between us, but we could just be friends, allies, whatever you want! Just, please, don't run away, don't leave us alone."  
Regina was standing just a step away from her, her brows furrowed, and Emma knew she maybe was being inappropriate, but she couldn't help thinking that she was beautiful, bathed in the moonlight.  
"Us, Miss Swan?"  
Emma nodded.  
"Me and you. You know that right now we only have each other. And..."  
She didn't even know why, but she finally took that last step, which kept them apart, grabbing her hand. There was something, which drew her towards Regina, and she could say it was not in her body, or in her mind. It was in her magic, which mysteriously and constantly aimed for the other's trying to reach it, making Emma feel complete, only when they mixed. It was in the stars surrounding them, nowhere as sparkling as they were there, in Neverland's sky, which gifted them light and the promise of a dream.  
"...and I promise you we will save him. We will, because he is our son and no one has the right to take him away from us, neither now nor ever.  
You will not lose your powers, because I'll be right there to give you mine, and you know that my magic is enough to awake yours."  
Regina's back was now against the tree, her breath had become shorter, while she was staring straight in her eyes.  
The show of stars dancing on waves of held back tears made Emma's heart fall in her chest, wanting to kneel before such a wonder.  
Because, after all, she would always be the beautiful and unreachable Regina Mills, to Emma.  
And by then, she was more than sure that she couldn't do any of that without her.  
"But I need you to stay by my side. I need you to have faith in me, as I have faith in you, because I can't do this without you and neither can you. "  
Emma stared silently for a moment.  
"And then...we are here together now, aren't we? There must be a reason for this."  
Regina still didn't speak, and Emma almost didn't choose it when she slowly was drawn back to her lips, those lips, who's taste she would never forget, which had called her for so long, always so distant, letting her heart yearn for them, for her.  
And when she met them with her own, that night in Neverland, their taste hadn't changed at all, and the simple sense of feeling it again pierced though her mind's sanity.  
She realized Regina was a drug for her. She was able to turn off her brain completely, to make her feel blissful and lost, to give her shiver of pleasure and fear, all at the same time. And she understood that pang of guilt, sadness and pain she had felt for all that time was nothing but abstinence caused by her absence.  
And now that she could have her again, she was finally feeling complete like she had never felt, not even knowing the truth. 

When they parted their lips, laying her forehead against Regina's, Emma smiled.  
"Just to be clear, I did not turned off the diamond only to save the city. And that kiss with Hook didn't mean anything"  
Regina's breath was shattering against Emma's lips, short and unsteady, when she finally decided to speak, ignoring her last sentences.  
"Tell me once again we will be able to save him."  
Emma hugged her without notice and caressed her hair, thinking she had never felt as close to her as she felt now, not even when she had owned her body.  
"We will. We will save him. He will be safe."  
Regina sighed deeply, barely holding back a sob, then raised her head and pulled her in for another kiss. 

And many other things happened in Neverland.  
They parted, breaking their promises, and then reunited again, because there was no way they could stay apart, after all.  
In the end, they really did it, they really saved their son, and all their pain, all their fears and all their problems flew away with the wind, which caressed their hair, while they finally hugged their son, together. And what was left, in the quick gaze they exchanged right after on that ship, under that endless moonlight, was only what was most true.


	6. Loss

Twelve years ago, Phoenix

The months that followed the evening of confessions and secret hopes went by pretty quickly.  
Henry was growing up healthy and strong; he was a very smart child who learned as much as he could from everything he saw.  
Now he loved both his mothers and he enjoyed their company indiscriminately.  
Emma kept on working in the mall while she looked for a new (and more proper) house to raise her son, and Regina attended her city council meetings, like it had always been, hosting Henry and Emma in her house every time they needed to.  
Sleeping with her hadn't ruined their relationship, as Emma had thought it would have done.  
They still shared what they had shared before; they had also considered the idea of moving Emma's things to Regina's house, since she was searching for a new one and Regina's was really too big for her alone (besides, they already stayed together, why go through all the trouble of finding a new house?) , but in the end, they had dropped the idea. This was for a couple of reasons they hadn't really spoke about, but that had been silently understood by the both of them.  
Basically, despite everything they meant to one another, there was still something that wasn't fixed between them, or at least in their cohabitation, something that made their own independence still necessary.  
Actually, Emma would have gladly given up on it, if that had meant living with Regina, but Regina didn't seem to totally agree. 

The fact was that, more the time that passed and the bond between them grew, the more Emma could feel the fear of losing her devouring her heart. Just the thought of it was terrible, and even if Emma had promised herself to never care about someone again, where she would feel lost when he left, she couldn't help it.  
That fear kept her awake at night, made her shudder in terror for each one of her own mistakes, which could upset Regina, and generated such protective behavior towards the other woman, that the latter could barely go out without Emma following her or asking her a lot of questions about where she was going and why.  
Emma hated this side of herself, and she had started to believe that Regina hated it too, because she could see the annoyed, and sometimes exasperated, look in her eyes crystal clear when it showed up.  
And the more she upset Regina, the more she feared she would lose her, so she tried to gain her affection again.  
Actually, the more she tried to protect her and to have all possible attention towards her, the more Regina acted cold and distant, and this saddened Emma, but also pushed her to give her even more.  
She couldn't understand how Regina could dislike someone's protection and care, after no one had ever given her any, so the only plausible explanation to Emma was that she still wasn't doing enough for her.  
It was an endless circle, which soon became also restless, filled with quarrels, silences and pacifying kisses, which every time were enough to quell Emma's heart.  
But since it was endless, it always started again, and soon it became too much for Regina to bear.

Initially, she had just tried to slip away from Emma's grip of protectiveness, but with time, she started to tell her clearly how much it weighted on her.  
"What I really need, Emma, is freedom. You are suffocating me." she had told her once, during one of their many fights.  
Emma had cried all night long.  
The day after, Regina had shown up with flowers and an apology for her words, which Emma had partially accepted because she knew, deep inside of herself, that it was mainly her own fault, and this made her feel even worse.  
They had talked, Regina had explained to her that she needed freedom, but that she wasn't trying to push her away.  
Emma had nodded and had promised her she would keep her protectiveness at bay.  
They had shared a kiss or two, then a game with Henry, and everything had seemed to be in place once again.  
But it wasn't.  
Soon they had again started fighting, crying, and avoiding each other when the thought of hurting themselves even more staying together became too strong to overcome all the other ones.  
But in the end there was always Henry, they always came back to him and so to one another. 

Until one day, Regina came back to Emma's house with a face too grave to mean something good.  
Henry had fallen asleep on the couch while playing, and Emma was tiding up the kitchen-living room.  
When she saw her dark, numb face, she stopped abruptly.  
"Regina..."  
"I'm leaving."  
The spoon Emma was holding in her left hand fell on the floor making a loud clang. She looked at Henry at once, worrying about having woken him, but the noise hadn't bothered him. He, instead, shifted his position and fell motionless again.  
Slowly she moved her eyes again on Regina and barely had the strength to whisper.  
"...what?"  
Regina sighed, seeming finally a little more expressive. She removed her coat and left it on a chair with her purse, without caring too much about them.  
When she had fixed herself up, after the cold air outside, which had ruffled her hair and made her limbs go numb, she finally looked at her.  
It was more like she was studying Emma's eyes, actually, during long seconds of silence, before speaking.  
"My mother called me. She is sick, she needs me. I need to go see her. "  
Emma was listening dumbfounded, a slightly terrorized look on her face.  
"In Europe?" she muttered.  
"Yes."  
She stared at her for another second before losing her mind.  
"What? Why?! When? For how long?"  
Regina rolled her eyes, losing patience as soon as Emma started with her usual questions.  
"I don't know for how long. I was thinking of leaving as soon as possible. I don't know what her health condition actually is and how much time I have. Please Emma, don't start again."  
Emma hated they had come to that, to not even being capable of starting a conversation without losing their patience, but it wasn't only her fault.  
"But...why?"  
Regina sighed, like she was about to explain something to a child for the umpteenth time.  
"She is my mother, Emma. If she is sick, if she is dying and ask for me, I have to go."  
"After everything she had done to you?"  
Regina suddenly lowered her gaze, feeling too exposed. Then, exactly for this reason, she let out a short laugh and spoke with more cruelty than she really felt.  
"I don't expect you to understand, Emma. You have never had a mother after all. But I have one, and I love her, even after everything she had done. Besides, I need some time for myself, away from here."  
Emma felt those words piercing violently through her heart, but she didn't reply. Instead, she just kept looking at her sternly.  
"And what about us? Will you leave us without even knowing when you will be back? Does she deserve you more than we do?"  
And Emma knew she was exaggerating, and pushing and making a tragedy of what was probably nothing, because after all Regina could come back whenever she wanted to, but she had her reasons.  
To be honest, for some reason Emma thought that if Regina had left then, she would have never come back.  
If she had really been affectionate to her mother, she wouldn't have said a word. Instead, she would have helped her with the travel and everything. But she knew that Cora, Regina's mother, was only trying to bring her close once again to take advantage of her; she had known too many people like her in her foster homes, and Regina didn't deserve that. She couldn't get over the idea of losing her for someone who didn't care about her at all.  
Then, Regina had told her she needed time for herself, away from there, and it was ok, after all Emma had never really thought she would have been enough for her, she wasn't that pretentious, but Henry...  
In Emma's opinion, it wasn't right to Henry.  
He was growing, he was happy; she had been able, with Regina's help of course, to grant him a good, stable life, and there was nothing she was gladder about.  
Regina couldn't deprive him of this stability, not Henry, not Emma's son. She couldn't accept such a thing.  
Regina, however, just shook her head, smiling slightly and bitterly amused.  
"Good Goddess Emma, do you listen to yourself as you speak? You are talking about my mother, not about some lover of mine! What the hell does it mean "does she deserve you"?"  
She was combining her words with movements of her hands and Emma's eyes locked on them.  
She had always loved her hands, so thin and smooth, always a little cold.  
Yeah, a lover. Maybe Regina really had a lover and she was only making a big and fake excuse to leave her for him or her. Emma shuddered at the thought. Then she raised her gaze again on Regina's face and a sudden, deep sadness descended upon her.  
She was losing her.  
"Would you leave Henry?" she asked, with a small voice.  
Regina suddenly seemed to lose all her coldness and shifted on her feet almost ashamed, looking away.  
"You know I would never. But I can't help to. I have to go."  
And then Emma could see the pain in her eyes, the same pain she had seen when she had taken him away from her the first time, and that was enough at least to make her sure she didn't have any lovers, because for not one of them would she have abandoned Henry; she loved him too much.  
Emma shook her head, taking a step back. She had to stop her, she had to make her stay.  
And she spoke, even if every word hurt.  
"You can't do this. Not with him. He is my son; he needs stability. You can't come and go whenever you want for as long as you want."  
Now Regina looked shocked, even angry.  
"Your son? Really? After everything I have done for you..."  
Emma let out a small, painful and bitter laughter.  
"Please don't start with this. Do you want to rub all the things you have bought for Henry in my face, all the help you have given me with him? Fine, feel free to do it. Just remember that it's thanks to me that you are still raising him, because you have absolutely no legal rights to him. Besides, we could have gotten by even with just my own money. Not like this, of course, but we could have managed. You are not indispensable."  
She spoke in a rage, but she regretted her words as soon as they left her mouth. It wasn't true, she couldn't have done this without Regina; she wasn't really thinking those things.  
She had just wanted to hurt her.  
And why she had to hurt her in order to keep her near her, she would never know.  
Now there was hurt in Regina's eyes, delusion and sadness, and Emma couldn't stand such a sight.  
She reached out to caress her cheek and tell her she was sorry, but Regina took a step back and spoke.  
"This is what you really think? I'm not indispensable? "  
"No Regina, I'm sorry, I..." Emma tried to explain herself, but she cut her off.  
"Why have you kept me next to you for so long then? Did you just want my money? My body? Here, you've got them. I hope it's enough for you." her voice broke and Emma thought she herself was going to cry.  
"No Regina! Please, don't say that! I wasn't really thinking those things, I just wanted to make you stay..."  
Regina's eyes were flooded with tears now. She took another step back.  
"And do you want to make me stay by saying that I'm actually useless?"  
"You're not useless! You are..."  
But Regina cut her off again.  
"What it's wrong with you? One day you follow my every move like I'm going to be killed or run away to never come back, and the next, I'm useless? You know what? You're a capricious child who keeps what she likes to keep for as long as she likes it, and who wants that thing to be hers and hers alone. Then, when she gets tired of it, she just throws it away!"  
"I'm not throwing you away Regina! You are running away!" Emma replied, tears in her eyes too, her voice high.  
"Yes, because you suffocate me!" Regina shouted back.  
"I just wanted to protect you. I just wanted you to stay and never leave me! All my life, I've been alone, and now, now that I've finally found some kind of happiness, I don't want anything to rip it away from me. I can't..." her voice broke and tears started streaming down her face.  
The worst thing wasn't that she was losing Regina. The worst thing was that she herself was the reason why she was losing Regina.  
Right in that moment, Henry awakened by their shouts and started to cry. That simple sound stopped their fight drawing their attention completely to him.  
Regina was the first to act. She wiped away the tears from her eyes and face quickly, reaching him and taking him in her arms.  
Emma was still crying, but for Henry's sake, she dried her face too.  
She didn't want him to see his mother cry.  
Soon after Regina came back to her, rocking Henry gently and Emma's heart melted once again at that sight, like it always did. Just, this time, it did it painfully, because she knew that was probably the last time she was going to see that scene right before her eyes.  
There had always been something magical in the way in which Henry calmed down in Regina's arms.  
And there had always been something enchanting in the way in which Regina's expression softened when she held Henry in her arms.  
They were made to be together and she was ruining it.  
Once Henry was asleep again, Regina finally looked at her.  
There was hurt in her eyes, but also a painful regret.  
"We can't do this, Emma" she whispered. And the walls of Emma's world came crashing down on her.  
But somehow, she was already waiting for that sentence.  
"I know..." she whispered back, earning a surprised -but not so much- look from Regina, who was staring at him again.  
"You said it. He deserves stability, and we... we are unsteady. "  
"I know." she said again.  
"Maybe...the difference between us is that you have always wanted people who loved you. I've been taught to run away from them by the ones who surrounded me, the ones who said they loved me. And it's...awful that our past still has influence in our present but..." she raised her gaze on her.  
"After all, maybe we haven't changed so much since then, have we?"  
Emma had stopped thinking. She was just breathing deeply and absorbing every last drop of Regina's voice that she was still allowed to hear.  
"I know."  
At that point Regina snapped desperately.  
"Please Emma! Say something!"  
Emma shrugged, feeling defeated, destroyed, abandoned again.  
She swallowed and tried to find something to say.  
"I...I think you're right. Henry needs stability and we...can't grant him that. I'm sorry if I had...suffocated you. I didn't mean to. I just didn't want to lose you, but now I'm losing you, so I guess it all had been useless..."  
"No! No Emma, hey!" Regina laid Henry again on the couch and then came back to her, lifting her face and looking at it with so many fluid emotions in her eyes, like Emma had never seen.  
"You are amazing, and what you have done for me is amazing. I've never felt so protected and safe before, not even with my father, but...it's just me.  
After all the years I've spent living a life I didn't want, now I need the freedom to fly away whenever I want, do you understand? This doesn't mean I would do it. I just...you know, I need to know I could."  
Emma lowered her gaze and nodded.  
"I understand."  
"And I know you need someone who will forever be by your side" Regina kept saying, "but I can't be that person. I mean, I would but...I can't. You deserve someone less bruised than me, Emma. Someone who could heal your wounds. I can't be that person."  
This time Emma didn't answer. They just stayed there in silence, one in front of the other, both conscious about the fact this was a goodbye.  
Then Emma spoke.  
"Can I ask you just one thing?" her weak voice more steadier than her soul was.  
Regina nodded.  
"Do you love me?"  
Regina had never told her those three words. Nor had Emma, but now it was the last time she could hear them and speak them, and since everything was already lost...she had to know.  
Because yes, she loved Regina.  
"Because I do. I love you."  
And it felt like at least half of that big weight, which had been suffocating her, lifted up from her chest with those words.  
"Yes. I love you." was Regina's answer, almost inaudible, but so deep to make Emma's heart shudder.  
And the last piece of that weight left her right there.  
At least she was somewhat free.  
With Regina's words, came Regina's lips, and in that kiss, which tasted like sorrow, end and endlessness all at once, Emma knew what love was for the first time.  
They loved each other, and they were leaving each other.  
Love is the most painful disease of all, now she knew it.  
When they pulled apart, they just stayed there, forehead against forehead, breathing slowly, until Regina looked at Henry asleep and spoke.  
"Leaving him is tearing me apart."  
Emma straightened her spine and looked at her.  
"Will you ever come back?"  
She closed her eyes and smiled painfully.  
"I don't know. If I have to leave him...and I have to leave him because he is your son, I don't think I...will be able to spend more time with him, becoming more and more attached to him, just to tell him goodbye again. It wouldn't be good for neither him nor me. "  
Now Emma looked at him too.  
"How do you think he will react not seeing you around?" she asked, with a pinch of a hopeless last attempt to make her stay.  
Regina looked at her for a moment, then Henry again, then Emma.  
"He will get over it, eventually. He loves you now. You are a great mother."  
Emma huffed, smiling lightly.  
"I don't think so."  
She nodded.  
"You are."  
"Not as good as you."  
Regina smirked.  
"Maybe, but he will make do with it."  
This made them both chuckle a little, because the alternative would have been so much worse.  
But when they looked in each other's eyes again, they knew that everything had come to an end.  
Regina cupped her face.  
"Promise me you will take care of yourself and you will be happy."  
Emma tried to smile but she didn't even manage to look her in the eyes.  
"I'll try. You too."  
Regina nodded.  
"I will."  
"So, this is how it ends?" Emma found the courage to ask.  
The other shook her head.  
"No. " She looked at her one moment more.  
"This is how it ends" and with that, she pulled her in for another passionate kiss, and Emma swore she would remember forever the way Regina's lips tasted.  
That was their last kiss. 

Regina left a couple of days later.  
On the evening of their goodbye, they had had dinner together, for the sake of Henry's happiness.  
It had been the most silent dinner they had ever had, filled with sighs and secret glances, stolen when the other wasn't looking, knowing they would be the last.  
The only sound had been Henry's joyful babbling, which often took the shape of a real word, a specific one, which made the hearts of the two women falter every time it was spoken: mom.  
It reminded them that they were both his moms, and it reminded them that one of the two, in Emma's opinion the realest one, was leaving the other and Henry all alone.  
It was sad and painful, but there was nothing they could do to avoid it.  
They had made a mistake the day they had decided to raise him together, Emma now knew it.  
She should have gotten distance from Regina since that first day, she should have done it all by her own. Instead, she had been weak, incapable, she had let her concentration on being a good mother get lost in the wave of feelings, and now she was losing all of that.  
But that was a lie, she knew also this. That was a lie she needed to tell herself in order to not drown in desperation, she needed to blame herself in order to not lose every hope that might have been left in her heart.  
She knew perfectly well that she would have never become a good mother without Regina's help.  
She knew perfectly well that she had found happiness with her, even if for a short time, and she also knew that loving her hadn't been an act of weakness, but one of strength.  
Just, it was all too difficult to be accepted as it was, so she had to build a thousand stories around it, at least in her mind, to protect her own soul.

Regina had spent all that night and the following day with Henry, since it was their last, while Emma had said she couldn't help working that day.  
So, she had spent the most of it in the mall and the rest of it wandering around the city, too scared to face her again, even if she knew that was her last chance to do it.  
In the end, when she had gone to Regina's house the day after to take Henry back, she had found her things already packed and Regina herself dressed up all too perfect. But that shield of perfection was cracked by some tears running down her cheeks, while she was holding Henry in her arms, whispering her goodbye.  
And just as the first time she had found herself staring at that scene, it had taken Emma a great effort to not fall into tears herself and beg her to stay.  
But eventually, all had come to an end.  
Regina had left for Paris on the first plane in the morning. Emma had drove her to the airport and there she had told her goodbye for the last time.  
She hadn't found enough courage to beg her to stay, or even to kiss her one last time, despite being all she was ruminating about the previous day.  
They had just exchanged glances, both too afraid of the future, or of the past, or of both.  
Then, they had shared a smile, which had reached neither of their eyes, full of held back tears, and with a last 'goodbye', they had renewed all their promises of hope and future.  
And then Regina had disappeared, just as she had never been there, just as she had been a long and sweet dream, and for some time, Emma had almost thought she really had been. A dream, nothing more. 

In some way, she had really managed to go on, just like she had promised to her.  
Henry had searched for Regina for the first months, and then he had resigned himself too to the reality of her absence, even if, several months later, sometimes he still started to cry without an apparent reason, and there was no way Emma could stop him.  
She had always thought he was crying for her, for Regina.  
And it was really strange, Emma had never thought that a person could disappear so easily, not a person of Regina's standing.  
She never called, she never ever tried to contact them again.  
One day, after months, Emma had come back to her house, just to find it empty, and the sight had filled her heart again with a pain she had been barely able to bear.  
But eventually, she had gotten over her. She had accepted Regina was too much for her, and she had felt the need to renew her life.  
So, she had left Phoenix; she had left her house and her job and had moved with Henry to Boston to have a fresh start, knowing all too well that Regina wouldn't ever be able to find them again.  
And for the first years, her life had been a living hell, among underpaid jobs, too small houses and a growing Henry to satisfy and to make happy, but in the end, she had succeeded in becoming a bail bondsperson and things had got better.  
And as the time went by, Regina had become just a far memory of a blissful time, probably the only time in her life she had spent without worries, maybe the best time she had ever had, but she had never let herself think over it too much.  
Actually, she had never understood why she had just let her go, why she hadn't fought to make her stay.  
Because maybe, they could have fixed what there was between them.  
But it had always seemed like that was the way in which it had been meant to be. Nothing more. 

After all, Regina had been a dream come true, and as all dreams, it had come to an end.  
And raising her son, Emma soon realized she was too busy to still pursue a dream.  
Right then, all she had and needed was reality.  
And in the space between her present and her past, only the memories could lie. 

\---

Present day, New York 

All night long, she had done nothing but think. Again and again, about her present life, her previous life, and the one she had thought she had, trying to make them all fix together. But, as much as she had tried, she hadn't managed to. It was just too much. Too much confusion, too many questions without answers, as it always was when magic was involved, too many feelings, which were still fighting inside her chest to gain the property of her heart.  
She hadn't slept at all, the thing that wasn't good since she was tired already and she still had to drive the whole next day.  
Instead, she had stared at the ceiling in the dark, letting all the memories of her life play right before her eyes.  
She had to sound out all her memories about this life in New York, and before in Boston and in Phoenix, and for the first time, she had actually noticed that they were incomplete. They were there, but there was always something strange, something missing, something false.  
Despite this, she had to be honest, Killian was right. Regina really had done a number on her.  
And that was the thing she was more marveled, perplexed and worried about.  
Regina had put herself in her memories. Why had she done that? What had she been trying to prove?  
After what had happened between them just the night before the curse, after what she had said, after the way in which she had pushed her off, Emma wouldn't have thought she would.  
And the only possible conclusion she had reached about that, had been that Regina had done it to be remembered by Henry. Maybe in the hope that, one day, he would have seen those pictures and would have asked his mother about that woman, or maybe in the hope that Emma herself would have told him about her.  
That would have been understandable; after all, she had had to say goodbye to her son, the only person she had ever really loved, but still there was something that disturbed Emma.  
The strange thing in all of that, actually, was not that Regina had tried to be remembered, but the way in which she had imposed her presence in her memories.  
They had been friends. They had been Henry's mothers. They had been lovers, and they had left each other without anger or regret, just with so much sorrow that it still weighed on Emma's chest, if she tried to think about it. Although, she now knew it wasn't true. It had never been.  
All of the things she remembered, all of Regina's smiles, and laughter, and the dates, and the nights...were all fake.  
And that somehow hurt, even if Emma would have never said it.  
If Regina really didn't care about her enough to keep what there was between them, even when it didn't arise from rage, vengeance, desire and lust anymore, then why had she created such a love story in her memory, between them?  
Had she only played with her feelings and her mind?  
Had she just wanted to forcibly appear redeemed, making her believe she was in love with her, just so Emma would defend her again and not blame her for the past, shared and not?  
Had she just wanted to make her suffer?  
And yes, she was also angry at Regina, because the memories could be fake, but the sorrow she felt and remembered she had felt, was real and after how Regina had kicked her out of her life, she didn't deserve to feel pain just remembering her, even if maybe she already did it before the curse.  
It would have been better if she hadn't remembered her at all.  
Anyway, to shed light among those memories had become more and more difficult as the time went by, because, as she would notice, the more she regained her old true memories about her past, the more the fake ones faded away. They became confused and mixed with the true ones, to the point that sometimes, she couldn't discern anymore between reality and dream.  
She didn't even know how many times she had groaned that night, cursing her mind for not being able to do its job properly.  
All of that would have driven her crazy, at that rate, but there she was.  
After all, if Killian, with all his theories , Walsh, the flying monkey Walsh, with his proposal, and her vivid dreams hadn't done it yet, probably nothing would ever.

Anyway, the most important thing right then was to come back to Storybrooke as soon as possible. She was the savior, and there was her family; she had to do it.  
Even though, if she had to be honest with herself, she had enjoyed her life in New York.  
She had her son, who was the only person whose happiness she was responsible for, she had a job which paid her well, and that she loved, she had even likely had a future husband, who had been very sweet and kind with her, before turning into a flying monkey and trying to kill her.  
After all, it wasn't all that bad.  
And honestly, she had not been sure about coming back, even once discovered the truth.  
She didn't know what was waiting for her there, but that was not even the main problem.  
She had no idea about what she would have found in Storybrooke after a whole year, who she would have found, which new problems, which new relationships.  
She had smiled bitterly thinking that maybe, in the enchanted forest, both Neal and Regina had found someone they loved and accepted, and even if she didn't want to admit it, the prospect of being rejected by them also really scared her.  
But truly, Regina had already rejected her, and Neal had too.  
She didn't want to see them again, not after the sorrow, the pain and the guilt of not being enough for them.  
And then, being the savior again, was not really a prospect which enticed her.  
She had been good without magic, monsters and fate. Really.  
It was a life based on lies but the truth hurts, doesn't it?  
Anyway, then she had remembered the moment when she had said goodbye to all of them, the sadness on their faces, the defeated, but still hoping looks of her parents, Regina's tears... and she had remembered how all of that had broken her heart in that moment.  
She had remembered how, in that moment among all the others, for the first time, she had understood she had really found her family in those people, and she had understood that Regina was her family too.  
She had even started to think that maybe, and just maybe, in spite of everything that had happened between them, she could still have a chance with her.  
And she had remembered also her own regret for all the chances she had lost with all of them, too worried about the future and too distracted by her past.  
Now she was having another chance to fix that, to regain what she had lost, and this time she couldn't waste it.  
And, as soon as she had realized that, she had gotten up on her feet and had started packing her things.  
She had already told Killian the night before that they would have left that day, but then she had not been able to wait any longer.  
So, at the first morning lights, her luggage was practically already closed.  
Killian was right, that life was not for her. And the fact that Walsh was really a flying monkey demonstrated that pretty clearly.  
She was not made to have a normal life; she couldn't escape her destiny, that had become clear by then.  
All her attempts to have a normal life were just a waste of time, because sooner or later, they would be destroyed by someone or something. That was just her life. And maybe it was the right path which always brought her back to her family, maybe not. Anyway, that was the only path she could follow, even if all the memories and all the hopes of a good and happy life still burned her heart.  
After all- as she had said- what she thought she could have was not in the cards for the savior.  
Sadly funny.

She sighed, throwing the last shirt in the suitcase and closing it right after. She stopped to look at her room all around her: the double bed, the white walls, the window with the skyline view...  
She sighed again. Absolutely, there had been nothing wrong about her life in New York.  
But in a few minutes, Killian would be there to bring her back in Maine with him, or better, to come back to Maine with her, and there was nothing she could do about it.  
Killian...it was funny that hie, of all people, was the one who had gone searching for her. Honestly, she had never thought he would have gone through such an effort to save her family.  
Maybe he did it just to get in her good graces, or maybe he was a better person than she had expected. Anyway, she couldn't say she was totally enjoying his presence there; he was searching for something from her, like everybody else.  
She could see expectation in his eyes, and this made her uncomfortable. Goddess, he had also thought that one of his kisses could have jogged her memory, like it was true love!  
She was barely ready for having a normal relationship (even if none of hers have ever been "normal"),how could she handle "true love"? And then she didn't feel for Killian what he felt for her, she was sure about this. Honestly, she didn't feel anything for Killian at all, if not gratitude for trying to save her family.  
She had given him just one kiss, in a confused moment, after he had been very pushy, and it hadn't even meant anything for her. How was she supposed to return some of his feelings?  
She shook her head for the umpteenth problem, but that was a minor one which she would deal later with.

The alarm clock reminded her of the breakfast she still had to cook for Henry, as she mentally prepared herself to reach the kitchen and front him.  
How the hell was she going to explain all of that to her son?  
He was just a boy; surely, he was more open-minded than her, but that was still a lot to take in.  
She headed towards the kitchen, creating in her mind an excuse for that trip which could seem plausible enough.  
When she first saw him, he was already sitting at the table waiting for her. She smiled.  
"Good morning. Sorry kid, I'm a bit late."  
He smiled and shook his head.  
" Morning mom. What's for breakfast?"  
She reached the kitchen, barely listening to him.  
"You're ok with pancakes?"  
He nodded. "Of course, I am."  
Without another word, she started to set out all the ingredients.  
She had always told him she didn't have a family, now she couldn't say she had just found them again.  
Her kid was smarter than that.  
On the other hand, he would have seen Regina. What was she going to tell him about that?  
How was he going to react?  
"Mom, are you ok?"  
His voice startled her, and she barely turned to give him a half-smile.  
"Yeah, give me just a moment."  
As soon as he turned quiet, her mind started racing again.  
That was really a big deal. Regina must have missed him terribly; she couldn't deny her from seeing him. Also, that was not what she wanted; Henry had to know her, even if he didn't remember her.  
But how? What was Regina to her, then?  
She could already tell that Henry would have covered her with questions.  
And what about magic? What if her son saw magic in Storybrooke and run away scared as hell? Would he do that? Would he blame her for that?  
"Mom!" his voice pulled at her attention again, "you're hurting the eggs."  
She took a deep breath. "Right."  
She emptied the contents of the bowl and turned to look at him.  
"Can I ask you something?"  
"Sure."  
Emma wasn't sure if she was doing the right thing, but she guessed that testing the ground wouldn't be a big deal.  
"Do you...believe in magic?"  
"Of course," he answered, leaving her astonished.  
Maybe this wouldn't be so difficult after all...  
"And the tooth fairy, and Santa Claus, and the Easter bunny. If it gets me a present? I believe"  
She sighed, smiling sadly. She didn't want to do that to her boy. He still believed magic could bring gifts, happiness and good things, how could she throw him in a world where magic brought only sorrow, sadness and never gifted people with something, but only asked for prices to pay?  
"You're not sure you made the right decision, are you?"  
She scowled.  
"I just...didn't feel like pancakes."  
"About Walsh."  
"Oh..." she chuckled, because he really wasn't ready for hearing that. "I made the right decision. I'm sure."  
He didn't answer, patiently waiting for his pancakes. And she was so proud of him, her little boy...  
"It's gonna be you and me kid, for a little while." She handed him the plate: "Here you go."  
He started eating but she didn't join him. She didn't really feel like eating right then.  
"Mom" he called again.  
"Yes?"  
"Can I ask you something now?"  
She smiled, stopping her doings and looking at him.  
"Of course."  
"It's because of Regina?"  
She froze at those words, remembering only after a few seconds how he knew about Regina.  
"What? " She forced laughter. "No. Why are you asking me this?"  
He shrugged, looking at his plate.  
"You know, you have never...told me about her before, and I know you've never found someone you were as close to as you seem to have been with her, and I thought that maybe Walsh and his...proposal, had reminded you of her and...I really don't know, maybe you wanted to marry her too.  
You know, when you told me about her, it really seemed like she was still very important to you, so maybe it didn't seem right to marry Walsh when you are still thinking about her."  
He ended there and filled his mouth with eggs, keeping his gaze low, a little ashamed.  
But she didn't answer at once, still too startled, a bit terrorized and left open-mouthed by his words.  
When had he grown up so much?  
And why did his words seem so...right (flying monkey aside, of course)?  
"I...She's..." she swallowed. "Yeah, well, I think she...will always be important to me for...you know? Everything she had done for us, and so should be for you, even if you have never known her. But...I'm not in love with her anymore, Henry. I mean...we had our problems, our past and...however, everything was over between us many years ago, so...no, I didn't say no to Walsh for her. I just...want to spend as much time with you as I can for as long as I have the possibility to, ok? "  
He nodded looking her in the eyes.  
"As long as you're happy..."  
She smiled sweetly and reached to him to lay a kiss on his hair.  
"I love you. Really, you know?" she ruffled his hair, making him laugh.  
And it was true, he was the thing and the person she loved most in the whole world. And then it became clear to her that it didn't matter what she would still have to face and what sorrow she would still have to bear; as long as he was with her, nothing would go wrong.  
She smiled, letting him finally go.  
"I love you too, mom."  
He finished eating and stood up right after.  
"Tasty, but I have to go. I'm gonna be late for school. You kind of overslept."  
She foretasted the look of joy that would have appeared on his face at her next words.  
"Nope. No school today. How about we go on a trip?"  
As forecasted, he smiled and got closer to her.  
"A trip? Like a vacation?"  
And there, the solution struck her.  
"Like I have a new case and it's in Maine and it might take me a while. And I think we should go; it might be an adventure."  
Like one of those in his books. Literally .  
"No school? A trip with you? Sold."  
And how much she loved that way he smiled.  
"Good, cause I've already packed."  
"When do we leave?"  
"Now."

Before forever leaving that house in Manhattan, which had meant so much for her, even if only for a year , she wandered around its rooms one more time, savoring and saving, in the mess her mind was right then, each one of the sweet, little everyday moments she had shared with Henry, hoping things wouldn't have to chang too much for them.  
Then, at the last moment, she put on her red leather jacket, something she couldn't leave behind, not when she was going to Storybrooke (she suspected Regina wouldn't even let her enter the town without that), and took with her, under her arm, the big, brown photo album with a golden typed "Once upon a time" on its cover. 

\---

One year ago, Storybrooke

In the end, they had really done it. They had really saved Henry, and everybody had come back to Storybrooke safe and sound. Or at least this was what they thought.  
The welcome back party, which Storybrooke people had greeted them with, had really been something fabled, something which Emma hadn't really felt part of.  
It was all too perfect: the praises, the joy, the tolerance even toward Regina...all too perfect to be real. But still, she knew she couldn't create a problem from every single thing, also because there was nothing normal at all in that town and they were all too tired, so she had just let go.  
They had celebrated at Granny's that evening, as always, but not even there was she had been able to relax.  
To be honest, there was a strange feeling in her gut, just like something was out of place.  
Once again, she had tried to let go, but it hadn't been as easy as she had wished it to be.

Just to ease the situation, Neal had started to flirt with her, maybe hoping to be allowed to have another go, but that really had been the wrong moment.  
She was tired and she felt guilty; people were celebrating as if nothing had happened, as if her son hadn't just been about to die, and the thing was setting her nerves on fire.  
She had saved Neal, she had told him once again she loved him just because, thanks to some strange mechanism of her mind, every time she was about to lose him, she felt the need to hold him.  
She supposed it was because he had been and still was important to her, and she had never wanted him to be dead, but she didn't love him anymore like it was before; she had already realized that the night he had fallen into the portal.  
She loved him still but it was not the kind of love which could have grown with dates, kisses and glances. Too much had happened between them, too many were the certainties Emma needed right then, and when she looked at Neal, she could see just her youth and her past self. And she didn't want to be that person anymore.  
Yeah it was a hell of a mess, but that was the truth and she couldn't have changed it, not even if she had wanted to.  
But anyway, she had tried to hold her own rage back from exploding against him.  
She had tried to be polite, even if she already knew all of that was going to cost her a lot of trouble and the thing upset her even more.  
After him, it had been her parents turn to speak to her.  
Goddess, why did everyone in there believe to know how she felt?  
No one ever tried to listen to her; they took everything for granted, but she was not some fairytale character. She had never been, no matter what they said. She was a human, with incoherent feelings and emotions just like any other human. They couldn't believe she would act by following the script because that was something she had never done and that surely, she wasn't going to do right then. 

Right then, she just wanted to be left alone, to finally have the chance to catch her breath and to think about everything that had been happening around her in the last several years and make some sense in it.  
Regina had been the only one who had respected her space and never got closer to try to talk to her.  
Also, she had been probably the only one who Emma might have wanted to talk with.  
Anyway, as soon as the clock had struck the late hour, she had taken the opportunity to fly away from that party, bringing her son with her.  
She thought he needed some rest too; he still seemed a little disturbed by everything that had happened.  
-After all- she thought - he surely had already had more experiences than the most of his peers.-  
But before going away, she had to make him greet Regina.  
She had felt so bad for him that now it seemed unacceptable to Emma that someone could still doubt that Regina was his mother.  
And Regina had been happy about it, she could see it from her face. Just happy, without claims or expectation. And this had warmed Emma's heart.  
Still, the fact that Henry had asked to go home with her had awakened another strange feeling in her gut.  
She didn't know why exactly. It wasn't jealousy, because she was the first who wanted him to get closer to Regina, it was just... strange.  
But maybe that trip had changed more things than she guessed.  
She obviously had let him go, but then she had been able to stand that party and all those people just for another couple of minutes.  
Then, with the excuse of being extremely tired, she left, reassuring her parents that they did not need to go home with her.  
And that had been also the first occasion in which she had thought that if she had meant to stay in Storybrooke, she would need a house on her own. She could love her parents a lot but living with someone else was something she had grown tired of. And then, she hated not to have a house to call hers.

However, once in their house, she couldn't stay quiet. She had walked around, she had tried to sit on the various armchairs and had also tried to sleep, but there had been something in her body, almost a need, which hadn't allowed her to relax.  
She needed to talk to someone, but she knew all too well who that someone was.  
There was only one possible someone, and she was Regina.  
But she couldn't go to her house at that time of the night; she couldn't bother her when she was finally happy and relaxed with her son. Regina was probably the only one who didn't deserve to withstand her rabid feelings of guilt, even if maybe she was also the only one who could really understand them.  
Emma had tried to be reasonable; she had tried covering herself up in her sheets and sleeping, but there had been no way her eyes accepted staying closed or her mind being quiet for a minute, so eventually she had found herself once again dressed and sitting at the edge of her bed.  
She had stayed there still, until the silence in that house had become too heavy, and the thought of her parents' questions once they would be back home too unbearable.  
In that moment, she had stood up and had decided that, no matter what, she was going to go to Regina's house.  
And maybe Regina would think her to be a fool, maybe she would push her away, but Emma knew she couldn't have stayed inside that house one moment more. 

The night, which greeted her and went along with her towards Regina's house, was colder than the one she had left behind coming back to her parents' house.  
It didn't take long for her to reach her destination, but once there, she remained in front of the large white door for a couple of minutes, just looking at it, asking herself if that was the right choice and at the same time, remembering the first time she had seen it, a long time before.  
At that rate, she was going to stand still in front of it all night long, if Regina hadn't suddenly opened that aforementioned door.  
"Emma...are you going to knock, or do you just want to be creepy and more disturbing than usual just standing here watching my door in silence in the middle of the night?"  
She didn't sound surprised at all by her presence. Emma took a step back.  
"Regina, I'm...sorry, I was just...how did you know I was here?"  
"Do you mean, other than spotting you from the window? I can feel you, Emma. I can feel your magic. Not everyone has as an annoying and huge magical presence as you, do you know?"  
Emma was taken aback by that, so she just stared.  
Regina could feel her. What the hell did it mean?  
And then her eyes laid upon Regina for the first time, and she just kept on staring because, no matter where or when, Regina always looked stunning, even in a silk pajamas covered by a grey nightgown.  
There was something different about her that night. Behind the mocking -harsh as always- tone, there was something else, clearly visible on her features.  
She had never seen Regina so relaxed or happy before. And that was one more thing that didn't do anything to stop her from staring.  
Until Regina, clearly uncomfortable, cleared her throat.  
"Emma, are you ok? Do you want to come in?"  
Emma shook herself from her trance and silently nodded, following her inside.  
Regina's house was dark and silent, but not as it had been the last time she had seen it.  
Now it was warm, comfortable, and inspired only homely feelings, tenderness and a shadow of happiness.  
Regina closed herself better in her nightgown, walking her to the usual living room.  
"Take a seat."  
Emma sat on one of the couches and Regina joined her a few seconds later.  
"So."  
"So..."  
Emma cleared her throat and removed her jacket, laying it on the back of the couch.  
She had felt the need to talk, but now that she could, she had absolutely no idea of what she was going to talk about. Going there had been a mistake, she should have known it.  
"How is Henry?"  
She asked, trying to start a conversation.  
Regina sighed and looked away to the fire burning a few feet away from them.  
"Good. Still a bit worried, I guess. He asked me about my vault. He was searching about some magical protections..."  
Emma's eyes snapped open and her attention was caught with that only sentence.  
"He did what?"  
Regina looked at her a bit astonished, but most with a reproving expression on her face due to her sudden loud voice.  
"He asked about my vault. He wanted to protect himself from another one of Pan's assaults. I reassured him that he is now locked forever in Gold's shop, but he didn't seem totally convinced."  
"And what did you tell him about your vault?"  
Another reproving glance.  
"What should have I told him? I told him that magic is never the solution and that I won't ever again allow someone to hurt him."  
Emma remained slightly astonished by her answer.  
"And do you really think that?"  
Regina looked her in the eyes. Then, almost finding the confirmation of being free to speak with her, she answered.  
" Honestly? No. Magic often is, if not the only solution, the main one, but I'm not going to say this to Henry. Magic has a price, and he doesn't need it. Not as long as I'll be by his side."  
And Emma didn't even know why, but those words somehow helped the grip in her stomach to loosen. Regina was capable of making people feel very comfortable, when she wanted to, and just with that, she realized there were still so many sides of Regina that she didn't know.  
She smiled.  
"Right, we won't let him need it."  
Regina's eyes widened a little at that "we", but she didn't say anything.  
After all, Emma had been the one to show up at her door, just like always. She was the one who had to speak.  
But Emma just stared at the flames in the fireplace for a long bit, until she found enough courage to look at her again.  
"How are you?"  
Regina hinted a smile, without returning her gaze.  
"Good, why do you ask?"  
"It just is..."  
What was it? Strange? Difficult? Absurd? Emma honestly didn't know.  
"Nothing, let it go."  
Regina turned her head to look at her.  
"Emma, why have you come here in the middle of the night? I think you should tell me."  
Just then, glancing at the clock on the fireplace, Emma realized what time was and stood up.  
"Gosh Regina, I'm sorry, I didn't notice it was so late in the night. You have to be tired; I'm going to go."  
Honestly? That was an excuse.  
When she had left her parents' house, she knew exactly what time was and she hadn't worried about it so much.  
Just, now she didn't know anymore how to face Regina, so she was trying to run away from her. Because she didn't know what she really wanted from her.  
But before she could take her jacket again, Regina grabbed her wrist without even looking at her.  
And she needed no words to stop Emma and to make her sit down again.  
"It's not that late" she said, once again, having Emma next to her.  
"Besides, I don't think I'm going to sleep tonight. I'll get some cider, if you want to stay for another couple of minutes."  
Without waiting for an answer, Regina stood up and went to pour her apple cider in two glasses. Then she came back, handing one of them to Emma and sitting again beside her.  
"So. Since when you are so scared of talking with me?"  
-Since the beginning, even if you had never known it and neither have I-  
Emma thought- but then just shrugged.  
"I'm not scared, I'm just... not sure this is the right thing. After all, you have your problems too, right?"  
Regina half-nodded.  
"Right, but in this case, I think we could be...useful to one another."  
The blond looked at her surprised. She couldn't understand why Regina was suddenly acting that way, why she suddenly wanted to help her. Maybe she felt beholden to her for some of the things she had done, or maybe she was just so happy that night to not care about anyone's thought.  
Anyway, Emma could say she liked this version of Regina.  
She took a sip of cider before speaking.  
"I just...you know, needed someone to talk to."  
She admitted.  
"And you chose me, among all the ones who would willingly talk to you? You're surrounded by ex-lovers and suitors; I don't think you really lack people to talk to."  
"Well, not that you aren't included in one of these categories, after all." she retorted spontaneously.  
She waited for Regina to get mad or to retort again, but instead she just laughed.  
" Am I? I don't think you could define me an 'ex-lover'. More an almost-ex-hater, I guess."  
Emma shook her head, refusing to answer her, even if her heart shuddered hearing that "ex" coming out Regina's mouth.  
"Why have you really come here, Emma?" she asked, suddenly deadly serious, with a bit of impatience in her voice.  
-Because I miss you-  
Yeah, she missed her. She missed her more than she liked to accept. She missed their little talks, their breaths united in one, her lips, her body.  
She missed everything about her, and now Emma noticed she had missed her since the very first moment she had forced herself to never touch her again.  
And her lack had let her catch her breath just for a moment in Neverland, when she had gotten closer to Regina one more time, only to come back crushing her heart even more the day after, when Regina had taken her own way and left her alone once again.  
She could talk only with her, and she missed her. These were the reasons why she had gone there, but obviously, she wasn't going to speak them out loud.  
She answered with a question instead.  
"Why did you leave us, me, in Neverland, when we found out about Neal?"  
Emma turned towards her and Regina tore her gaze away.  
"I was sure you would have gone to save him. I was searching for our son; I couldn't waste my time searching for your ex-boyfriend."  
She answered, probably more harshly than she had meant to, because her words were followed by a quick, almost invisible, glance of worry, soon hidden behind her glass.  
But Emma didn't get mad, even if she probably should had. She knew Regina better than that.  
And then, she was probably right, Henry had to always be their first choice, and she had let her contorted feelings cloud her judgment.  
But Neal might be useful for their mission, he had been, so she couldn't totally blame herself for that.  
"You should have trusted me. I did it for a reason."  
"I didn't need him. And I thought I didn't need you either. And then I didn't want you to look at me as the broken toy which depended on you."  
Now this upset Emma.  
"What!?"  
Regina just shrugged, continuing to gaze around the room.  
"You know what. After what we had said the night before, once having known about Neal, you wouldn't have thought about me anymore, you wouldn't have needed me by your side to face it all together anymore, because you would have had Henry's father to face it all with. Eventually, you would have just looked at me with pity, because I would have been the one, whose diseases and fears you knew about, left to face it all by herself."  
She stopped talking, leaving Emma open-mouthed, and sipped her cider again.  
Emma just stared at her in disbelief.  
"You...you..."  
Really, she didn't know what to think anymore.  
"What the hell are you talking about?! Regina!"  
But Regina still didn't look at her and this made Emma even more upset.  
"Regina, look at me!"  
Just then, she turned, and even if it was just a fine line, there was some worry in her eyes.  
"Is this what you still think of me? After everything we have gone through.  
Do you really think I would ever behave that way?"  
The dark-haired one stopped her own gaze from wandering around, locking it on the other's eyes, and kept it there for a few seconds before answering  
"Yes."  
Emma didn't say anything. She honestly didn't know what to say.  
She turned and emptied her own glass of cider, hoping to succeed in having some more, because that night, she really felt like she needed it.  
She could still feel Regina's burning gaze on her, but she didn't care about it, not when that was what Regina thought of her.  
Then, the other woman stood up with a sigh and took the empty glass from her hand. She filled it again, along with her own and gave it back to Emma.  
"I was scared" Emma heard her forcing out after a bit.  
"I know you probably aren't the kind of person who acts like that, but...this is how everyone had always acted with me and I can't stand that feeling anymore. "  
The blonde barely looked at her, but still didn't say anything.  
She knew all too well she couldn't hope to gain more excuses from Regina, but still, her words burned a bit. Because she had really tried to do anything she could for her, and she really, really, cared about her, but if she still believed her to be capable of behaving in such a terrible way...well, then she had probably done nothing really to deserve Regina's trust. And this hurt.  
But then she thought again about Regina's last sentence and suddenly she recognized it.  
She had always been treated that way from the people she had open herself up to, and if Regina recognized herself in that situation,then she really had to be the person, maybe the only one, who could understand Emma.  
She looked at her, making circles with the cider in her glass.  
"Do you feel guilty too?" she simply asked.  
Regina met her gaze and stared, then sighed.  
"About Henry? Of course, I do. I've always promised him I wouldn't let anything bad to happen to him and instead..."  
"They kidnapped him right before our eyes." Emma ended the sentence for her.  
"Exactly. How could I not feel guilty for this?"  
Emma nodded slowly, staring in concentration at a specific point on the wallpaper.  
"I feel guilty too. And everyone acts just like nothing had ever happened, but I know, we know, it isn't like that. " She swallowed, "he was going to die and it's all our fault" she looked at her, "isn't it?"  
Regina nodded.  
"It is."  
Then, she quickly emptied her glass of cider and Emma did the same right after, for the umpteenth time.  
"We are terrible mothers."  
Regina said, and Emma suspected the alcohol to be somehow involved in that declaration.  
She agreed. "We are. But...at least now he is safe. You see? I told you we would succeed in saving him."  
Regina shrugged.  
"Thank you"  
"For what?"  
"For reminding me that when we were on the island."  
Emma looked away barely nodding.  
"I really needed you, you know."  
Silence fell between them while Regina once again filled the glasses without even asking, bringing back the pitcher with her this time, putting it on the coffee-table near the couch.

It was also that room - Emma thought- that made every one of their conversations so awkward. There were too many memories bonded to it: their first encounter, their first time, their first civil conversation after the breaking of the curse. Every object brought some memories back to their minds and this was not very productive for their conversation.  
So, Emma tried to break that silence, at least to keep her mouth occupied with something else other than her glass of cider.  
As the time went by, she was finding that drink dangerously more and more addictive.  
"Well, I think that now, people will start seeing you differently. In a good way, I mean. After all, you have saved the most popular boy in town, haven't you?"  
Regina smiled sadly, and Emma had to believe that the alcohol, instead of cheering her up, made her even sadder than usual.  
"He has never been the most popular boy in town. All the contrary, instead. My reputation affected his too. As my mother's affected mine when I was young."  
Emma attempted a smile, trying to ignore the pain in the other's words, which pulled on her own heart's strings and tried to cheer her up a bit.  
"Yeah, but now he is the grandson of Snow White and Prince Charming, right?"  
She also attempted a laughter.  
"Goddess, you should see how funny this all sound. One day, I'll have to bring you to the world outside here, just to let you know how each one of you is known out there!"  
But her laughter slowly got quieter until extinguishing itself completely when Emma realized, seeing the expression on Regina's face, what she had just said.  
She would bring her out of there. She would let her see the world.  
They sounded like promises of dreams and made Emma's heart feel happy and full, even if only for the few seconds in which she imagined them. Though, those were promises she couldn't make.  
Maybe it was the cider that made her speak so much out of turn.  
Anyway, she stayed quiet, without the courage to say one more word, and without the ability to get rid of the image of Regina's reaction at her words.  
There had been something on her face, behind the astonishment, something bright which looked so much like...like... happiness.  
And then, fortunately, Regina pulled her out of her misery, speaking in her place.  
"This is exactly the problem of this town, isn't it? Everyone knows you and judges you by your dynasty.  
No one gives consideration to the person you are. It's all about whose child you are, just like it was in the Enchanted Forest. You should know it better than anyone else, shouldn't you?"  
Emma looked at her for a moment, more than grateful to her for ignoring her last sentence. Then she nodded.  
"I guess I should."  
"Who knows you in this town? I mean, who really knows you?"  
she asked, and Emma tried really hard to find someone to name, but her mind came back blank.  
There was only one person who really knew her. And eventually, Emma decided to name her, without looking her in the eyes  
"You know me better than everyone else here."  
Then, she emptied again her glass just to not have to look at her, and silently thanked Granny for having made her eat so much food, or she would have already been drunk.  
She could feel Regina's filled-with-wonder gaze right on her, before hearing her voice.  
"Me?" Regina snorted slightly.  
"Then your situation is worse than I imagined." she said with a note of amusement.  
"And what about Neal? Doesn't he know you? After all, he is the only person here who has known you since you were young"  
Emma shook her head.  
"He knew me. It's different. Everything is different now. I am someone really different from who I was then. And he knows just that part of me, not the person I am now. He can't understand how it feels for me, after all these years. "  
Regina raised her head.  
"So, you are not going to go back to being his girlfriend? After all, you two have a son together, don't you?"  
There was annoyance in her voice and maybe also a bit of urgency that Emma couldn't understand.  
That gave her strange signals and generated maybe more doubts than needed, but it was easier to blame the cider for everything than trying to understand it, so she just spoke.  
"Absolutely not. I mean, in some ways I still love him, and of course, I don't want to lose him, but...he is more like a brother for me now. He's just someone I knew very well, a long time ago but who now, I can only know for the parts of his past, which still are in him. For this reason, I can't be with him anymore.  
And then, me and you share a kid too, but it's not like we are together, is it?"  
Regina stared intently at her. Then she nodded slowly.  
"No, it's not."  
She fell silent once again, the both of them did, as Regina filled the glasses and Emma took hers, both with the clear intent to empty that (already almost empty) pitcher before the night was over. 

The flames kept crackling in the fireplace, their noise was like a lullaby for their bruised souls, and the clock kept beating the time along with their breaths.  
After another couple of sips, Regina spoke again, even too abruptly.  
"Listen, just..." she closed her eyes.  
"...don't let him take Henry away from me, from us, ok? Please. You have no idea how it was when you arrived here, the feeling of being about to lose him every day. Believe me, you don't want to try it.  
He is everything for me, you know that. If you really don't hate me, don't let him do it."  
Emma was decisively taken aback by those words.  
Yes, now she could understand the feeling Regina must have felt when she herself had come rushing in her and Henry's life, separating them, but she had never imagined Regina to be fearing Neal's presence in the life of their son so much. Suddenly she felt a terrible pang of guilt in her chest.  
"Of course, Regina!" she exclaimed, trying to reassure her, and she noticed she was talking softer than she had ever talked to her, but once again she blamed the cider for that.  
"Of course, I won't! Henry is our son. I won't ever let Neal take him away from us, I promise! You can trust me on this."  
Regina turned her head to look her in the eyes and her gaze charmed Emma with its deepness, its desperation and its silent request for help. And Emma, whose soul was crying for help too, could only try to show her, in that gaze she returned, that after all, they were more similar than different and that, at least concerning their son, they wanted the same thing.  
And if she could have talked freely, as her mind, too closed and scared, didn't allowed her to, she would have also told her how much she cared about them, and how she couldn't accept to lose them to anybody else, including Neal.  
But she couldn't, and when that gaze became too burning to be held, she tore away her eyes.  
"The truth is..." she took a sip of wine looking at the wall, searching for a reason to keep up those lies.  
Maybe she was too blinded by alcohol, but she found none.  
And just with that, she decided to stop holding back her real thoughts. She decided, for once, to tell the truth. Just because Regina was the only one who was able to bear it.  
"The truth is that you are his parent more than me or Neal could ever be. We are just cowards."  
And saying it out loud was like a liberation from the prison of her own mind, which left her free to search for comfort in self-pity and in the weakness, she never let herself show to the others.  
She wasn't a mother, she wasn't a savior, she was just a coward, and for a moment she needed to be just that.  
She couldn't see Regina's face, but she could guess the look on it after that confession.  
Anyway, she said nothing, so Emma took it as an invitation to go on.  
"I've always thought it, but I couldn't admit it with anyone because no one would have believed me, and then it would have meant losing the fight between us and I couldn't lose, not then. But..." she smiled, bitterly amused, "...the thing is that I've already lost, Regina."  
Yes, she had. And she hadn't realized it before saying it out loud, but now it seemed so clear that it made her feel like a fool.  
Of course, she had lost. She had lost since the first moment when she had missed Regina, and perhaps she had lost even before, because she had always known it wasn't just Regina's body she searched for in their secret encounters. It was always something else, always so much more.  
She could feel the cider running through her veins like gasoline, blending with her blood, setting fire to it, as the words kept spilling from her mouth.  
She wasn't really very drunk, she could have stopped at anytime if she had wanted to, but that was the thing, she didn't want to.  
For once, she wanted to feel like the reins weren't in her hands. She wanted to feel free, like she could do only when she was with Regina, who was as bruised as her, if not even more, and who had nothing to lose, just like her, except the only thing they shared: their son.  
She wanted to feel free from guilt, from responsibilities, and she understood right then that the only way to do it was to confess.  
She just had to confess her sins, and not to a God she had never had faith in, but to a human being just like her, full of sins, just like her.  
" I wanted to tell you that I'm sorry. I'm sorry for destroying your life together, just to get back something I voluntarily gave away. I'm sorry for having ruined many years of Henry's youth, which should have been just for the two of you. I'm sorry for being a coward and having blamed you for everything, for having lied to you, for having mistrust in you, when everything you have ever wanted is to protect Henry. I'm sorry for not telling you about Neal upon his first arrival and... for not having been able to protect you from Greg and Tamara, and...gosh Regina, I'm sorry for so many things and I want you to know it because you deserve to know it. You aren't the only one who has to feel guilty and, believe me, you're not. If there's someone who has to hate someone, then it should be you hating me because I absolutely do not hate you."  
-If you knew...if you only knew how much I...-  
She stopped her screaming mind, while her heart raced against her thoughts.  
But looking Regina in the eyes with a courage she thought she had lost long ago, she saw Regina wasn't understanding.  
Regina didn't want to understand, because all of that had to be something she had never experienced before, something which would have brought Emma too close to her, as she couldn't allow anyone to be.  
And that, Emma realized , would be their ruin.  
She saw Regina swallowing, her gaze once again on the flames.  
"If we are here to confess our sins...well, I'm sorry for having ruined your life since the beginning. And I should probably also be sorry for having ruined the life of everyone here. And for having mistreated you during your first time in Storybrooke. But...Emma, things happen because they have to. This isn't an excuse. I chose to cast a curse, as you chose to give Henry away, but...I just mean that there is always a reason that something happens, at least there is a reason for you to make it happen and...as right or wrong as it may be, you can't fight it in the aftermath. It's useless.  
All you can do is try to mend the damage you did. You have no need to feel so guilty. You did nothing really."  
Emma just stared at her. Then she laid her glass on the coffee-table and turned towards the other woman.  
"Then tell me, what can I do to mend my damages?"  
Regina stared back bewildered.  
"Emma, you did not damage me. Probably no one could damage me, except Henry. Why do you want so much to be redeemed from something you didn't do?"  
Emma shook her head, even over embellishing that motion.  
"I did something. Everyone did. Why won't you accept it? Regina, you've been hurt! Several times. You should gladly take these excuses; instead, you still want to believe you are unbreakable and no one will ever hurt you. We both know it isn't like this. And all the other people may not see all your sufferings but I do, and if you keep on putting it aside without ever letting it flow away from you, without ever get rid of it, it will destroy you."  
Regina imperceptibly shook her head. Then she smiled in an empty way that made Emma shiver, almost without recognizing her in it. And suddenly Regina was miles away again.  
"You can't understand, just like your mother, can you?" she whispered briefly.  
"Regina, I..."  
"It's really late Emma, I think you should go now." she cut her off.  
But Emma had no intentions of go away, not then, not when she had gotten so close to knowing her, as she had always wished to.  
She had no intentions of letting Regina still struggle in her own suffering and guilt alone in the silence of her house. Too many people had done it before; she wanted to be different from them, she wanted to be better.  
She wanted to see Regina smiling.  
Really smiling, not faking to.  
"I guess I should, but I don't want to."  
Regina's face tinged itself with resentfulness.  
"Miss Swan, this is my house. How do you dare?"  
That wasn't the direction the conversation should take. Emma had to stop it before it was too late, before she got too distant from her.  
"Regina, please. You know why I don't want to go away. You are trying to escape my question."  
Regina glanced at her, once again, but she didn't speak this time.  
"You said I don't understand, then explain it to me!"  
Regina looked away.  
"There is nothing to explain" she said coldly, empting her glass a moment later.  
"It's not true! Why don't you trust me, Regina?"  
Emma's question was almost a plea, but somehow, it shook Regina from her numbness.  
She turned abruptly towards Emma.  
"Because I have no reason to." she replied, sharply but flatly.  
It was almost as if she was forcing herself to let her true emotions distance from her words, and maybe only this stopped Emma from running away right then.  
"What do you think, that you could conquer me with some kind words, a couple of glances and a kiss?" Regina went on, a deadly serious look on her face, her lips trembling, spiting venom.  
"Well, let me spill you a secret: you didn't. You want to know why you can't hurt me? Because if you could, it would mean that you mean something to me. And you don't. You can't mean anything to me."  
But somehow, in those words thought to hurt her, Emma found some kind of hope.  
"Why can't I?"  
Regina looked to the floor, and it looked like all of her rage was vanished in a second and has been replaced by shame and unavoidable sorrow.  
"Because... " she attempted to answer.  
Emma froze, waiting for her answer, maybe for the answer she had searched for years by then, in that silence impregnated with expectations.  
"Because..." Regina tried again, but eventually she stopped following her train of thought, choosing to give up.  
"I really think you should go, Emma. I don't want you here."  
Emma heart ached, remembering that sentence fallen from too many lips before hers, as all her hopes slowly started to leave her when Regina let her down.  
She started to, once again, feel the awful feeling of her whole world slowly falling apart, but she forced herself to be strong and face it as the grown up woman she was, not anymore like the lost little girl.  
All that was left to her was her stubbornness, and it was exactly what she meant to use as her last weapon.  
"I don't want to."  
Emma felt something wet in her eyes and when Regina turned towards her, for a second, she could almost see it reflected in hers too.  
Regina was almost startled, and she didn't speak.  
Instead, Emma swallowed, steadying her voice. Then she went on, rising her own chin.  
"If you really want me to leave, force me to. Take my heart and order me to do it.  
This was what you are used to, right? This is how you are used to dealing with things that go out of your control. Then do it now, because there is no other way for me to leave!"  
"Stop it!" Regina almost shouted, her whole body slightly shaking in rage, maybe in fear, while her hands tightly gripped the nightgown on her thighs.  
Her eyes were red, almost burning fiercely , shining in the half light.  
"I thought you knew I would never do something like that to you. You ask me trust, but you never trusted me."  
she said in a deep, controlled voice, both to not awake Henry on the floor above and to keep her emotions well hidden in her tone.  
"It's not true and you know it. I gave you everything I could. Now tell me why you want me to leave."  
And it was like this lighted a sparkle behind Regina's eyes, something that made her stone mask fall and that pulled on the strings of her heart, to the point that honest words started to painfully leave her mouth.  
"Because..." she took a deep breath, steadying her voice: "...because every time I look into your eyes, I see something I can't explain, and it makes me feel like the worst person in the world, who I probably am, after all."  
Then she give up, and her voice broke on her last words.  
Emma remained in an astonished silence, looking persistently at her, searching for a trace of lies on her mouth and finding only the most beautiful lips she had ever seen or tasted.  
Now, Regina had lowered her face and was looking stubbornly to the floor, once again.  
"You're not." Emma simply replied.  
But Regina didn't seem to react to her words, already too broken, so Emma collected all her courage left and gently touched her hand, which laid on the couch.  
"Regina, look at me."  
Their contact sent an electric wave through both of their bodies, making them shiver, but Emma didn't care about that, not when Regina turned once again to look at her, tears in her eyes.  
"Do you want to know what I see when I look into your eyes?" Emma asked.  
The woman didn't answer. Her eyes kept on shooting from Emma's pure, green eyes, honest and clear, like the sky over the highest peak of the mountain, to her lips, speaking words of salvation, soft as tourniquets on the wounds of her soul.  
And Emma, enchanted by those suddenly unsure and restless eyes, honestly didn't know why she had to do it. She didn't know why she felt the need to make Regina feel good with herself, to make her understand she was not the monster she believed to be.  
Because a monster could never make someone feel the way Regina made Emma feel.  
Probably because every time Emma had been staring at Regina's hands doing magic, some kind of magic had also been affecting her own heart, altering its pace and her mind, changing her thoughts.  
Or probably because that relationship she had instituted with her since her first weeks in Storybrooke had done nothing but grow stronger when it had faced the truth of their identities and the difficulties which followed it.  
Probably, she thought, if they hadn't been who they were, in a normal, cloudy Storybrooke's afternoon, the sheriff would have shown up to the mayor's door holding a bouquet of flowers to ask her out on a date after months of secret sexual encounters.  
Maybe she could have done it. Maybe there had been a time when she had been about to do it, before choosing to run away instead, from her own feelings and from a possible rejection.  
This was probably the reason why she needed Regina to need her so much: because she had fallen for Regina a long time before then, and for all that time, she had only been denying a loss.  
The loss of her.  
So, realizing that, Emma decided to give in.  
Because suddenly everything which surrounded her, didn't matter anymore.  
Suddenly, she believed she was ready to accept the whole town's rejection, just for a single chance to be with Regina.  
She grabbed her hand, without ever leaving her eyes.  
"I see the most beautiful pair of eyes I've ever seen" she started and Regina's cheeks slightly reddened, but Emma wasn't finished yet.  
"I see your soul, a beautiful, wounded soul, which denies itself the help it is desperately asking for.  
I see the fear of making another mistake and the fear of being betrayed by life, once again.  
And I see remorse and regret for the past, but behind all of this, a desperate, lonely, innocent hope for the future.  
I see you. And you are all of these things and all of these things are you, and I can't see anything wrong in them, and so in you."  
She whispered it slowly, as it was a confession, the so needed one, putting all of her feelings in every single word.  
Because maybe her worst sin was feeling something so great and not revealing it to the person who inspired it.  
But now, that was her confession, that was her choice, that was her reckoning.

Regina didn't answer. She was keeping her lips tightly closed and her eyes fixated on Emma, trying to hold back tears, which threatened to escape from her eyelids. And she was so tender doing so, that Emma smiled, getting even closer to her.  
"Do you want to know what it is that you can see inside my eyes?"  
Regina finally took a breath and closed her eyes for a short moment.  
"No" she whispered.  
"Why?"  
"Because it may not be what I believe it to be."  
"And what if it was?"  
"I..." Regina had opened her eyes again, and they were so close that Emma could see each detail of her face that she had never noticed before lightened up by the near flames.  
"...I wouldn't know how to accept it."  
And then, Emma understood that one was the moment she has been waiting for. The only moment that life was finally granting her to be a savior and be a sinner, and be brave and be coward, all at the same time, finding her happy ending.  
"But I do." she just said, caressing her cheek.  
Then, tenderly holding Regina's face with her hands, her lips reached her ear and whispered something, one single word, almost inaudible, which made them both shiver at the simple mention of it, and which remained hanging in the space of two breaths, suspended forever in that endless leap of time.  
And something told them there wouldn't be other words, because they weren't needed, or probably because they were both too cowardly and scared to dare saying something more.  
They just fell in repetition, in the only thing they were able to do in that moment, in the only way they knew to face such a big and scary truth, which was a truth for the both of them, because otherwise one of them would have stopped what they were about to do.

Emma didn't go away that night.  
The living room door remained shut, and the dying flames in the fireplace were the only witness to the magic that happened that night.  
That night two lonely and strained souls merged into one.  
Their fusion started with lips searching for a twin pair to match, again and again until loosing track of time, then going down to explore silky wrinkles moved by a human breath, hidden places alive with running blood, covered treasures of opal and alabaster, of gold and amber, just to eventually come back to their twin pair, matching again to find the lost time and start it all again.  
It continued with fingers tracing the shape of never forgotten lands, now known in the new dimension of a virgin emotion, safe places to get lost into.  
Then names, repeated until exhaustion, held tight as secrets, whispered like litanies, lullabies, prayers.  
And next to completion that fusion reached their hearts, out of pace from a bit by then, bringing them a single, same beat, stronger than all the others, which finally brought the both of them to be just one, beating at only one pace.  
And in this way, the two souls merged totally, with a single, silent scream, a call for help, a cry of pain and revenge, a plea for freedom and happiness, while warm tears sealed their entirety forever.  
Then they vanished in purple smoke, reappearing in Regina's bed.  
There they spent the night, silently continuing to apologize, while sweetly ridding the other of all their faults.  
There, they made love for the first time.  
But they were already only one entity, and all they could still do was renew again and again a promise, their promise, unknown to the world, as it would remain to them for a long time. 

And while Emma caressed her skin, like the moon was caressing the sky, gliding toward the west, they fell asleep, close and connected to one another as they had never been.  
Probably -Emma thought in her last seconds of wake- that was happiness: Regina's light breaths, the softness of her hair, the scent of her skin, that feeling of freedom she felt in her heart and mind and the last, reassuring awareness that no matter how things would go after, she would always belong to Regina in the name of that single night they were sharing and someway Regina would always belong to her. 

But that sleep didn't last for long, because as soon as the sun begun to rise, Regina awoke her.  
And maybe for the first time in her life, the first thing Emma did when she woke up was smile.  
But not even that smile or the happiness she had felt were meant to last for long, because the first words Regina said kicked Emma out of her dream.  
"Wake up, Emma. You need to leave."  
And Regina's voice was weirdly cold, but at the beginning, Emma looked the other way and just sat up.  
"You don't want to tell Henry about this yet, right?" she simply asked.  
Regina glanced at her.  
"Henry will never know about this."  
Her voice was deadly serious and this scared Emma probably more than it was supposed to.  
"You want to keep our relationship hidden forever? Regina, but...why? You don't have to be afraid of anything. I'll be right here with you. We will figure it out!"  
But Regina cut her off.  
"You need to go away, Emma. This was the last time. We can't do it ever again."  
Emma remained startled.  
"What?"  
Regina rolled her eyes.  
"Don't make that face. You know exactly what."  
"What are you saying?" Emma asked again as fear started creeping under her skin, shaking her voice.  
"What does that mean? After everything we said last night, I thought..."  
Regina snorted bitterly, without looking her in the eyes.  
"We? I haven't said anything, actually"  
"What?!"  
All Emma could do in front of that brutal rejection, which soon made her feel the cold on her exposed skin, was refuse to understand and start building up walls again, that had been too easily destroyed just a few hours before.  
"Regina, don't you dare say that I forced you to do something because I'm not taking the blame for that when it's not true. You were enjoying it as much as I was, so."  
Regina nodded.  
"I know. I know what I did. I'm not saying you forced me. But we can't do this ever again."  
Still, Emma couldn't understand. She just wasn't able to.  
"But...why? "  
"Because I have had enough of it."  
And with that Emma felt her heart breaking apart. She tore away her gaze and clung the sheet to her chest.  
"Where did I go wrong?"  
Regina shrugged, displaying indifference.  
"You didn't, I'm just tired of feeling so conflicted every time I sleep with you. I don't need it, so we can end this here."  
Emma looked at her again wide-eyed.  
"Every time you sleep with me? Regina, we haven't slept together since before the curse broke. More than one year has passed and tonight, for the first time, we didn't just 'sleep together' and you know it. "  
"What?" Regina scoffed "and what do you think we have done, exactly? Because, from what I see, you are still in my bed."  
"Exactly! I've never come in your bed. I've never fallen asleep holding you. I've never woken up by your side! We shared something last night, and it wasn't just pleasure. Don't try to deny it!"  
"I still don't get what you are talking about, Emma. It's getting late; you should really go before Henry wakes up."  
But Emma was really running out of patience.  
"Regina, last night you cried! We, cried! Do you really believe this doesn't mean anything? Do you think I cry with whoever I sleep with?"  
Regina gave her a scolding glance.  
"Keep your voice low or you will awake Henry. I don't know what you feel, Emma and I won't assume it, but I feel nothing for you. I'm sorry."  
"What!" Emma felt like her whole world was falling to pieces around her once again and she had no way to save it. A useless savior, just what she had always felt to be.  
And there was something in Regina's eyes, something terrible because it reminded Emma of what she had seen in those same eyes the night before, even if it was more disillusioned now, sadder and terribly colder.  
But Emma had never lost her ability of seeing through Regina's walls, and she could say she wasn't being totally honest.  
Yes, there was something different than the night before, but she was forcing it to be different, for a reason that Emma hadn't understood yet.  
But, if Regina, in the end, wouldn't change her mind, then really Emma would have been incapable of saving the only one she really wanted to save, and right in that moment, it didn't feel like there was much she could do to help her.  
However, she tried.  
"Why are you doing this to yourself?" she asked, whispering.  
Regina kept on absently staring at the wall, while sitting on the edge of the bed.  
"We can't do this, Emma. We have always known it. We just deceived ourselves for a night.This doesn't mean things could change."  
"Why can't they?" Emma whispered, almost on the verge of tears and feeling her success grow more and more distant.  
"Because you are the daughter of my worst enemy."  
"So?" she shrugged, "are you a Storybrooke's commoner now?"  
Only this provocation earned one of Regina's furious glances.  
"Don't you dare compare me to them."  
"Then explain it to me! How does this change something? What my parents did is not my fault.  
I've always tried to take your side in your whole conflict thing, and now this is what I get from it?"  
Regina shook her head almost sadly.  
"This is not the problem. Your mother will say that I've cast a spell on you. Henry will believe her, because you are too good and heroic to stay with someone like me, and he will hate me again. I can't lose him anymore."  
"But we can explain it to Henry!" Emma exclaimed, getting closer to her.  
"We can explain everything! What do you think, that you will face all of this alone? I'll be by your side.  
This is our chance to change their minds!" she said, and she really meant it.  
That was an invitation, but probably more like a desperate request.  
Regina shortly laughed, bitterly amused.  
"This is not. You wouldn't lose your parents now that you have found them, and either they will try to convince you that you are under a spell or will reject you. I can't count on your help."  
This time Emma stayed silent. It was true; she wasn't going to lose her parents again now that she had found them. Still, she was sure they would understand... They would...  
And what if they wouldn't?  
Would she be able to give them up for Regina? Maybe. Yes, probably.  
She had believed she would, the night before, but thinking about it now...  
Why she had to, when Regina had said she didn't feel nothing for her? What if Emma's lie detector was broken and she was telling the truth?  
Would she risk everything for something she couldn't be sure about?  
And would Regina allow her to? She didn't seem to want to take the risk of losing Henry.  
She trusted Regina, she just couldn't find enough reasons yet to disagree with that and reply to her words.  
Why should she have opened up completely and made a fool of herself, actually begging Regina, when she did not have certainties that was what the other woman wanted too?  
She believed it, but...come on! Could she really be so important to her? Could what she had felt exploding between them the night before be real? 

And in the time these questions had crossed, one after another, in Emma's mind, Regina had already got on her feet, already dressed, and was starting to clean around.  
"Regina, I..." she tried, but soon her voice fade away.  
What could she have said? That she had desperately fallen in love with her years before? That, though, she wasn't ready to risk her whole family just for her? But the thing was that she would. She would have, if just Regina had admitted the truth.  
But once again, the coward won, the one who preferred not to find the answers to certain questions.  
She let herself be overwhelmed by feelings of sadness and defeat, without arguing, until she felt too tired even to walk away.  
Yes, maybe it was all absurd, but well, that was herself; that was the true Emma Swan, a coward full of questions and fears.  
Then she met Regina's eyes, which were staring at her from across the room.  
"Emma, it's better this way, trust me. You were right, we can't handle it. It's too much and we are both too weak and destructive. We would destroy everything and everyone around us, including ourselves, and it's clearly more than we are willing to give, so go home."  
And with these words, Regina left the room, leaving her alone with her destructive thoughts.  
And maybe Regina was right, she agreed while getting dressed, that was too much even for her. They had never known so much love to be able to fight for it. They would find a way to go on despite everything, but they couldn't risk losing anyone else.  
With this belief, she left her house without even seeing her once again.  
With this belief, she gave up on her last chance to be truly happy. 

Emma spent the entire morning wandering around in the woods like a fool.  
She was searching for an answer, for a solution, maybe she was just trying to understand what really had just happened to her life and what she really wanted, because she wasn't sure she had figured it out yet.  
How would she still live in Storybrooke after what had happened? How could she go away, on the other hand, when what had happened depended on her family and on the fear she felt of losing it?  
And wasn't all this struggle a proof of how destructive a possible relationship between them would have been?  
But after all, she thought, they had been destroyed already.  
Or better, they had destroyed themselves, and that was even worst.  
She didn't find the strength inside her that a lunch with Neal would have required, so she ended up on the harbor, looking for solitude. But there, her father reached her.  
He was completely unaware of what was really bothering her, and in that moment, she felt sorry for this. She felt the desire to tell him everything, to let him console her just like she had always wished a father would have done, but obviously she couldn't.  
Anyway, he was kind, and spoke to her about something that concerned moments.  
And there, she realized that maybe her last chance to be, if not happy, satisfied with her life, was Neal. He was still waiting for her, he still loved her. If she had been fast and ready enough, she probably wouldn't have lost him too. 

Regina had been a moment in her life, just a moment. She needed to persuade herself of this.  
She needed to get over Regina as soon as she could, or that wracking feeling,which was feeding itself with her heart, would have torn her apart completely. 

So, she had followed her father to Granny's, trying to distract herself from the thought of Regina, of their last night and of all she had found and lost just in a few hours.  
Anyway, something went wrong ( there was always something that went wrong in that town).  
They found Blue's corpse in the street, and Emma once again couldn't help giving attention to that peculiar feeling in her gut, which kept telling her that something else, something unknown, was completely wrong. And when she first saw Henry in the street, that feeling weirdly gained in intensity.

With Henry came Regina, attracted there by what was happening still, and trying to think about everything but them, she told her about that feeling, hoping she might have an answer, which would help her nerves to relax a bit.  
But Regina was cold and distant and didn't want to listen to her just because she thought she was speaking in her own interests, maybe to get a revenge on her after she had pushed her away.  
But Emma wasn't lying, there was really something off with Henry.  
And by Regina acting that way, Emma was getting more and more angry, because she really didn't believe that she deserved that treatment. 

However, when they found out the truth, all of her anger faded away, being replaced by worry and guilt. She had let him stay with Regina while she had sensed that something was off.  
She should have followed her and tried to convince her.  
Instead, she had let her go just because she was angry, and she wasn't strong enough to face a real conversation with her.  
Now, Regina was with Pan and Henry was probably lost, and the fault was all hers, the usual, useless savior beaten to it as always. 

When they finally found Regina, Pan was gone.  
Emma had been the last to enter in her vault, where her body laid, and the scream of her mother calling the woman's name, dripping in worry, literally froze the blood in her veins.  
When she first saw her, Regina laid on the floor, surrounded by the ones who had found her.  
Emma felt her heart stop at the sight because Pan could have easily killed her, disguised as Henry.  
She would have never tried to defend herself; she would have never hit her son.  
For some terrible seconds, when only the fear, which was freezing her, prevented Emma from running to her rescue, she really believed Regina to be dead.  
She had let her die.  
But then, fortunately, Regina woke up, and Emma was able to breathe again. 

From then, the world started spinning all too fast around her.  
The night went by without her even noticing, and things succeeded one another relentlessly.  
Henry wasn't himself; the real Henry was trapped in Gold's shop; she saw her son in Pan's body and that had been weird.  
They had to cast a spell on him, to bring him back to his own body. It looked like fear and worry for him could never be put aside during those days.  
And doing all of that, Emma found herself near Regina and Regina near her once again.  
They were fighting for what they loved most, maybe after all, they were able to do that.  
And still, despite everything, no one could have ever understood them the way they did with each other. 

The words that were spoken, 'let's go find our son' , reminded Emma that, no matter how things would go, there was something between them that would never change. 

When they found him again in his own body, their kid, their son, they hugged him, and once again, everything seemed to go well, as it had seemed on the ship just a couple of day before, even if then, it hadn't been true.  
In some ways, it was like all the three of them found their lost strength every time they were finally together again. There was magic in their bond, and Emma suspected it could be another kind of true love, maybe the same, which had awoken Henry at the breaking of the curse.  
Now she believed in it, unfortunately for her.  
Everything would have probably been easier if she hadn't.  
And maybe the prospect of what was about to happen would have scared her less, if she hadn't believed in it, or maybe even more, she didn't know.

Anyway, Regina terrorized her again when she fell after touching the scroll of the curse. And Emma hated herself for that, but she couldn't help kneeling near her, trying to get her back, calling her name again and again, because in that moment, she didn't care about anything that had happened between them.  
She wasn't going to lose her now that they had just saved her son, not with him near her, not after what she had felt in that hug.  
She would have done anything for Regina, she realized in that moment.  
Her bond with her was so strong that it made Emma felt the same pain Regina was feeling, and her affection towards her had become so unconditional that, no matter what they were or could have been, Emma would have given her life for Regina's anyway. Because she still wasn't awake and even just the idea of losing her again, for the umpteenth time, was scaring Emma to death.  
She wasn't going to lose her ever more.  
But while these thoughts were crossing her mind, she was too busy trying to awake Regina and too worried by her closed eyelids, to give attention to them.  
They were natural, they were spontaneous, but she didn't realize what they really meant at once.  
And when Regina finally came back to them, opening her eyes and exhaling her name like it was a promise, she felt relief flooding through her whole body.  
This was not just because Regina was awake, but also because of the way Regina called her name and looked right in her eyes while hers were sparkling.  
She found a whisper of hope, which was also found in the sighs of relief of the people near them.  
Maybe she could have a chance to remedy her own damages without risking it all, maybe Regina would allow her to.  
And just maybe, Henry and her parents would really understand.

That awareness alone could have been enough to make her able to face anything that was about to happen, but something else deeply scared her right after: the following expression on Regina's face, and her words:  
'I saw what needed to be done'  
What needed to be done?  
What could break them apart even more, destroying their lives and their future?  
What were they about to lose now?  
And then Pan arrived. Gold sacrificed himself like Emma didn't believe he would do, but still those questions kept running through her mind, making her almost shiver with fear, from time to time. 

Though, when the moment of the truth came, she wasn't ready.  
She would lose everything and everyone, but Henry, everything she had just gained and sacrificed, everything she had hoped for and just then realized, everyone, her parents, Regina...  
She couldn't, but she had to, because as they had always said, Henry mattered more than anything and anyone, and both her and Regina would have sacrificed anything for him.

She could barely think clearly while everyone around her spoke, feeling a weight on her heart, which was squeezing it more and more at every word they said.  
They spoke about happy endings 'they weren't always what they thought they would be' her mother said, but looking around her, she could see only Regina.  
And she was there, her happy ending, the one she was going to leave behind forever, the one she had already given up on due of her own cowardice, and she wasn't who she had thought she would love but there she was, right in front of her.  
And Emma was letting her go.  
And she hated herself again, but this time for the huge mistake she had made giving up on her, because now, she realized what her hopes really meant: that it wouldn't have mattered if she would be treated like a fool, kicked out of the town, or rejected by her parents, whether they had done it or not.  
It wouldn't have mattered, if she had had Regina and Henry by her side.  
Her hopes meant that she was ready to love Regina.  
And only a few things in her life had hurt more than realizing that truth only then. 

She waited for her words, patiently, because she really didn't care about what anybody else thought.  
She just wanted to know what Regina thought they should do. She would completely trust her this time, because no one cared about Henry more than she did.  
And when Regina spoke, she looked so deeply in Emma's eyes, that Emma thought she could read her soul crystal clear. Because, after all, now their souls were just one.  
In a few words, she told their story, underlining, once again, how it all had revolved around Henry, since the beginning.  
She had to save him. They both would do what they, as mothers, had to do.  
And then Regina said the only thing that Emma really needed to hear in order to let go of everything.  
-We have no choice. You have to go.-  
As much as it hurt, Emma knew it was right. She had to go.  
She kept on staring into Regina's eyes as long as she could, because that was maybe the last time she could stare at her face, the last time she could get lost in her eyes.  
And what she saw in them was the painful awareness of being ready to love her, because by then, they both had understood that maybe they had no choice, but for them, there could have been another chance, if just their fate had allowed it to.

And if they had been alone, she would have touched her, held her tight, kissed her lips desperately once again, but she couldn't destroy Regina's life now that she was going away, leaving her alone against everybody, so she just painfully stared at her.  
And when she exhaled that "Okay", she realized, for the first time, that this was a goodbye.  
Their goodbye. 

\---

Present day, Storybrooke

It had been a long trip, but they had finally reached the wide and almost desert roads surrounded by Maine's woods and grey skies. It was all too familiar, and it had become like that even more when darkness had fallen across the land, bringing a full and bright moon up into the sky.  
Henry had fallen asleep in the back seat since almost an hour already, and a few minutes before, Killian had also, leaving her finally in a silent peace. The trip by car had been long, but she was never bothered by driving, especially when darkness fell and hers was the only car on the whole road.  
She had definitely missed that aspect of Maine's roads.  
Actually, if she thought about it, she had missed everything about that place.  
She had always been used to living in big cities. For this reason, she had never imagined she would have missed such a quiet place like that, but there she was.  
While her car slipped quickly through the majestic trees of the woods on her sides, and a light wind, smelling of wet dirt and sap, caressed her face, she felt a sort of sense of freedom under her skin, but it wasn't a kind of freedom which would lead her towards the unknown, no, it was a kind of freedom which led her back to her true herself. The freedom of being at home.  
She had never thought she would feel something like that in her whole life, but now that it was happening, she felt...weirdly good, as though everything was exactly the way it was meant to be.  
Yes, as much as it scared her, she had to admit it; Storybrooke had become her home.  
And she had missed her home terribly, even if she had realized it only the day before. 

Then a thought crossed her mind: she was going to see Regina again.  
Regina, the true Regina, not the one she had remembered for that whole year, her Regina.  
During the whole journey she had been thinking back to what they had been, but especially to how they had left each other.  
It hurt even then, but somehow it generated some kind of anger in her.  
Regina had left her. Regina had given up on everything they had just found.  
And Emma had allowed her to. She hadn't been strong enough to stop her. And she had understood how much she was willing to give her only when she couldn't have given it anymore.  
And she was angry with Regina because she shouldn't have dared to put herself in her memories, making her suffer for what she had lost, after what she had done. After what they had done.  
She didn't have the right to.  
At least she could have made them just friends instead of impossible, hopeless lovers.  
And that would be the first thing she would say to her, as soon as she saw her again, she thought.  
Emma needed explanations, and Regina owed her some.  
And after that...  
After that, what? What if she had found someone else during her absence?  
And even if she hadn't,would things still be as they were before? Would they be able to fix them?  
Or would they just permanently delete them?  
Would they come back to live again?  
This was what scared Emma the most about coming back to Storybrooke. The curse situation would be solved somehow, she just wondered what other sacrifices it would require, but their situation... that was maybe unsolvable.

When she finally crossed the town line, she couldn't help her mind going back to the first time she had done that.  
It was night, just like then, and Henry was sleeping, just like then, but that time, he was still an unknown kid with a book full of fairytales, and the world was still a boring place for Emma.  
Right then, instead, he was her son, her son who loved her, and she herself was the one with the book, holding her fairytale tightly in the fear that it might disappear. And now, the world was even too much of an adventurous place for Emma.  
During the trip she had wondered if the "new" Storybrooke would be the same as the previous one.  
Now that the same old signs were moving quickly by her sides, she could see that, at least apparently, nothing had changed.  
There was the same disturbing, deep silence, the same flickering lights and that thick, wet atmosphere, which made Emma shiver as soon as she got out of her car.  
They were in the middle of Main Street, but no one seemed to be around in the night, so she parked her car at the first passable place. After all, she was still the sheriff there, she couldn't fine herself.  
Anyway, being back there again kept leaving her a little surprised as she looked around.  
"It's really back..." She whispered, "I'm really back."  
She hadn't even noticed that Killian, now awake once again, had reached her side.  
"As quaint and homey as you remember?"  
"As cursed as I remember."  
Then she saw him move next to her and she saw him putting his hook back on.  
"That's more like it, isn't it Swan?" he asked, touching her hair with that thing.  
Emma didn't remember finding it so repugnant.  
"How are you going to explain that to him?" she asked, avoiding saying anything worse.  
"Well, that's more your concern."  
Of course.  
"Or perhaps I'll jog his memory. "  
"Or give him nightmares."  
But Henry was just a kid, he would get over it anyway. Emma thought she had worse problems than that.  
"Last time this curse took away everyone's memories. This time?"  
Hook shook his head.  
"We don't know what it did."  
"Then I'll find out." she had to, after all. She was still the savior, wasn't she?  
She glanced at Henry still sleeping in her car and once again, she worried about how she was going to make this all acceptable to him, in a realistic way, until got his memories back.  
She sighed. She just wanted to protect him, for real this time.  
She looked at Hook.  
"Stay here and watch Henry. Don't wake him, or scare him, or just...let him sleep."  
He nodded.  
"Aye. Where are you going?"  
She thought for a second about it.  
"To talk to my parents"  
'And then to talk to Regina'- she thought, walking away.


	7. Memories

One year ago, Storybrooke

The wind was beating on Emma's face, blurring her already drenched sight and burning her teary eyes, as she squeezed hands and was wrapped in hugs in which she found no warmth.They all loved her, but it felt like no heat could have been able to fire up her broken heart and her lost spirit.  
She was slowly drifting away. Her mind, refusing to accept what was happening, was desperately trying to remove itself from all of that. It was trying to fly away from her, to hide, finding rescue in the sweet memory of the days before, or in any other previous memories, provided that it included her family.  
The family she had always wished for. The family that she was leaving.  
She felt like she was fluttering, hovering about those scenes, which saw her as a protagonist, but which she felt miles away from. Just like she wasn't there. Just like all of that wasn't happening to her.

She greeted Neal first. He still believed in another chance for them, and Emma wished she could believe in it too. Maybe in this way, that huge and heavy goodbye she was going to say would have been easier to bear. But she couldn't, because the other chance she really desired wasn't the one Neal desired and believed in. Her other chance was much more distant and difficult to reach than Neal's, and by then, she was pretty sure she would never reach it.  
And she felt a little guilty for no longer returning Neal's feelings and for not sharing his hopes about their future, but there she was, this was her present life, the one she was losing, and that was her family.  
She felt like there could have never been anything as important to her as it was, nothing she could have desired more to keep. 

Then there was Hook. She greeted him quickly. She had only a few seconds and she didn't want to waste them.  
She still felt a little uncomfortable in his company due to what had happened in Neverland.  
At first, she had had some doubts, but now she was more than sure that the kiss had been just an impulsive move, stolen from boredom and gratitude, nothing more. He meant nothing more to her.  
But she felt uncomfortable because in some way, that simple move seemed to have affected the pirate more than she had imagined, and now he acted almost like he was expecting something from her, something she wasn't willing to give him, something she couldn't give him, and probably nobody ever again, because she had already given it to Regina.  
He said he would never forget her, and inside her, Emma really hoped he would. She didn't need to feel guilty for his struggle also.  
There was already someone else that was probably suffering for her, and the thought alone, even if maybe a little presumptuous, would be enough to make her regret her choices until the last of her days. 

And then, the so feared moment came.  
Regina reached her. She needed to talk to her.  
Emma needed it too, because that would have probably been the last time she would have the chance to.  
They distanced themselves from the others with enough steps to not let their conversation be overheard.  
Then, they stood, one in front of the other, and it felt like looking in a mirror.  
There was the same pain on their features, the same tears shining in their eyes, the same instinctual need to say everything that hadn't been said yet, before it was too late.  
But still, the words struggled to come out; they were still held back by their miserable souls, which refused to give in to the fact that that time would be the last. Their last chance. 

But at least there was one thing different between them, Emma noticed it. 

In her heart, she felt fear and sorrow, but, as the warrior she had always been, she couldn't avoid also feeling some combativeness left.  
She had never stopped searching for another solution; she had never really stopped fighting.  
Instead she saw something different in Regina's eyes, which had always been the mirrors of her heart.  
Regina was suffering too, maybe for her, maybe for Henry. It didn't really matter, but, differently from Emma, she seemed to have already given up.  
Maybe she wasn't accepting that one to be the last moment left to them, but somehow, deep inside of her, she seemed to have been ready for it from a bit by then.  
She had never deceived herself; she had always known they didn't have the chance to be happy.  
After all, she had already made it pretty clear: Regina didn't believe in them.

That was probably the reason why she would always be stronger than Emma, or probably this was probably what made her weaker. 

Anyway, already reading in her eyes the written ending of that story, Emma felt her courage and all of her strength disappear, once again, and the tears sting her eyes stronger than before.  
"Emma..." she said, and Emma's heart kneeled before the softness she heard in her voice.  
"...there's something I haven't told you."  
Emma felt her soul being torn apart by the fight between the hope of hearing those so wished words come out of her mouth, and the fear of knowing how much she would have gained if she hadn't lost everything.  
Eventually, the fear won and fighting against the knot of the tears forming in her throat, she spoke.  
"I don't want to hear that."  
"But you have to." Regina replayed patiently, with an enviable calm.  
Emma stretched her lips into a thin line to stop the sobs from blurting out of her mouth all together in a pathetic scene. She couldn't speak again, so she just shook her head slowly, begging her with her gaze, which hadn't left Regina's eyes for a second.  
"Emma..." she whispered, and a tear ran down Emma's cheek, as she heard the sorrow contained in her voice.  
She tried to steady her breath in order to speak without breaking down and crying.  
"Regina..." saying her name made her tongue and heart ache "...I'm...I'm sorry."  
The dark haired one just stared at her, surprised, then she forcibly raised the corners of her mouth in an attempt of a smile.  
"You're not the one who needs to feel sorry here."  
But Emma didn't listen to her.  
She felt really sorry, because she felt she should have fought for the both of them, even when Regina hadn't been ready to do it, and instead, she hadn't; she had let her cowardice win once again.  
So, she just gathered all the courage she still had and finally let those precious words fall from her mouth.  
"I would. I would risk everything. Now I know. "  
Now, more than ever, she felt sure about that.  
She would have risked everything for Regina; now she would have had faith in her, if just...  
"I know."  
She surprised her, this time with a genuine smile on her lips.  
"I've always known you would, eventually. It's me that..." she swallowed, lowering her gaze.  
"I told you, you don't have to feel sorry." she said drily and then attempted another smile.  
Emma tried to return it, but all she could feel was the bitterness in her mouth.  
She couldn't understand why Regina kept acting that way, why she refused to tell her the truth, leaving her hanging upon a devouring doubt, even though they were probably losing each other forever.  
"Regina...tell me the truth." she couldn't avoid to saying, because she needed to know it then more than ever. She needed to know if the courage was only what Regina missed, or if what she believed she saw inside her had always been wrong.  
Regina stared at her with a blank face, then sighed.  
" You know which is our truth. You're the Savior; I'm the Evil Queen. We can't be anything else. "  
But Emma didn't agree. They were women, first of all, lonely souls. They fitted exactly because they had never been neither the Savior nor the Evil Queen in each other's eyes.  
They were just Emma and Regina when they were together, and that had always been enough for them. And it would still have been, if they had continued to stay by one another's side.  
"We could have." Emma answered.  
Regina shook her head, once again, with that resignation that was destroying Emma more and more.  
"No" she said.  
"This is how things have to go, Emma. Trust me, it's better this way. It should have happened years ago, before I could meet you or before I could..."  
Regina didn't end her sentence.  
'Before you could do what? Why don't you want to admit it?!'- Emma felt the sudden desire to scream at her. But she managed to control herself and, instead, glanced quickly at the people near them.  
They were respecting their privacy and hadn't got closer, still they were looking at them almost curious, surely guessing what they were talking about.  
Just for a short moment, Emma hated them all, except Henry of course.  
Even in the suffering, there was judgment in their eyes; there was suspect, and Emma couldn't bear it.  
And she hated them also because if they hadn't been there watching so closely, she could have kissed Regina and held her tight, confessing all the feelings, which were destroying her heart and bringing it to a new life at the same time.  
She could have asked, screamed, those painful questions at her, forcing an answer, a real one, at least setting them both free in that last moment of their shared history.  
But she couldn't do any of that, so she just let her anger slowly fade and her heart sink into the well-known pain of its thousand goodbyes that she was getting more and more used to.  
But Regina called her out of the depths of her mind and sorrow once again, saying her name.  
"Emma...everything will be alright" she tried.  
But Emma shook her head once again.  
"Yes. It will. For you and Henry everything will be alright. You will be happy."  
Emma looked at their son and called him to them with a gesture. She didn't care about what he might possibly hear or what he might get from their conversation, she just wanted, needed, some more moments with her family.  
When Henry reached them, Regina held him tight to her with an arm.  
Emma looked at her once again.  
"How could it be alright without you?"  
But Regina smiled once again, even if the tears that flooded into her eyes suddenly became more copious than before.  
"You won't remember me." she released with those words a long-held breath.  
Emma widened her eyes.  
"What?"  
Regina's smile never faded or wavered as she spoke again.  
"When the curse washes over us, it will send us all back, nothing will be left behind, including your memories. It's just what the curse does. Storybrooke will no longer exist; it won't ever have existed.  
So these last years...will be gone from both your memories, and we'll just go back to being stories again."  
Henry was silent, hugging his mother tight for the last time, but Emma could see him shivering at those words, while tears streamed down on his face  
"But..."she tried to argue looking at Regina once again "I don't want to forget! What will happen to us then?"  
Regina shook her head.  
"I don't know."  
They fell back into silence and all they could hear was the distant rumble of the incoming curse and the sound of their shaking breaths.  
She couldn't forget Regina, Emma kept on telling herself, she could never. Maybe she didn't want to either. What would she have been, without the memory of Regina?  
Of course, it would have been easier to forget her and go on like nothing had happened, like she hasn't just lost her happy ending, to forget all of them, like she hasn't just lost the family she had always searched for.  
But what would become of her without her memories? What kind of person she would become?  
Once again, the one who had given Henry away?  
And how did they dare call it a happy ending when she would be alone, even in her own memories?  
"Doesn't sound much like a happy ending..." she said, "...there isn't another solution? Couldn't we...defeat the curse once we are in it or...I don't know, run away?"  
Regina shook her head.  
"There aren't other solutions, Emma. And this clearly isn't a happy ending, but...I can give you one."  
A sparkle of hope turned on in Emma's eyes.  
'Can you come with us?' - she would have wanted to ask her.  
The thought of running away, just the three of them, crossed Emma's mind.  
It would be easier; it would be more in her style, always running without looking back.  
But she knew all too well they couldn't.  
Despite everything, she loved her parents and Neal and she cared even about all the innocent inhabitants of Storybrooke. It wouldn't have been right for them. They hadn't chosen to be cursed the first time and now they didn't deserve to be cursed a second time. If that way would save them all, including Regina, she couldn't let her parents die for her own wish of love and happiness. After all, they had given up on her too in order to save their kingdom. It was just history repeating.  
All she would still hold onto would be the memories, memories of what she had known, of what she had given and received by all of them.  
Painful, beautiful memories, hard to keep, easy to let go.  
"Can you preserve our memories?"  
"No, but I can do what I did to everyone else in this town and give you new ones."  
This sounded like a solution, probably the perfect one. But what kind of memories Regina could give her?  
"You cursed them and they were miserable" she remembered.  
Regina showed her a painful smile in which Emma could see all of her regrets, and it squeezed her heart painfully.  
"They didn't have to be."  
Then she saw her gazing around and when her eyes rested again on her, Regina took a deep breath and, in a sudden motion that Emma wasn't expecting, she grabbed her hand.  
When she spoke right after, Emma felt every one of her words stab her heart like daggers.  
She couldn't help fearing what Regina felt, still unknown to her, and she couldn't help suffering, before the desperate kind of love she had always believed to see inside her eyes.  
"My gifts to you are good memories. A good life for you and Henry..." she looked at him, holding him even tighter. You'll never have given him up. You'll have always been together. "  
Regina's face blurred behind the tears, which once again flooded Emma's eyes.  
"Would you do that?" she asked, and Regina looked so deep in her eyes that Emma shivered.  
Of course, she would do that- her eyes said. She loved them.  
She breathed again.  
"When I stop Pan's curse and you cross that town line, you will have the life you always wanted."  
Emma slightly shook her head.  
"But it won't be really what I wanted, you know it; Nothing will be real."  
And maybe their words weren't saying much, maybe they couldn't either, but their eyes were, and in that moment, in that last goodbye, they were saying all they needed to know to each other.  
"Your past won't, but your future will. And without remembering what you really wanted before, you won't wish for it anymore."  
There was the truth: Regina was saving her.  
The so called "Savior" was being saved by the Evil Queen, from a pain she wouldn't be able to bear by herself, from the damnation Regina herself had condemned her to.  
The damnation of true love.  
Emma lowered her gaze, with nothing more to say.  
She could hear Regina swallow over the sound of the wind.  
" Now, go. There isn't much time left. The curse will be here any minute."  
Just like it was a reflex, Emma squeezed Regina's hand still tangled with hers, like it could do something to avoid her having to go. But even if Regina returned that squeeze, they both knew that was nothing able to save them.  
Regina let go of her hand in order to hug Henry one last time, and Emma just stood still, staring at them.  
Then, Regina crossed her gaze one last time, freezing the moment.  
During those last, fatal seconds, nothing else but them existed in the whole world.  
Their gazes were air to breath, their tears were water to drink, all they had was love to survive.  
That had to be enough, for then and forever.  
Then Regina tore away her gaze, and, without another word, she stepped back, away from her.  
Emma didn't know how her world still sustained her in that moment; she didn't know how she managed not to fall into the oblivion.

In the end, almost absently, she greeted her parents, the last scraps of her true life, and she found herself in her car without even noticing it.  
When, seconds later, she crossed that town line, and she looked back one last time, she felt a piece of her soul tear away from her, to return to its missing twin, as she took the last glimpse of her family vanishing in a purple haze. 

And while her memories faded, she understood exactly where her home would always be, between her new reality and the dream of her past one, right where the memories would lie. 

\---

Present day, Storybrooke

Finding her parents had been pretty disconcerting, actually. Especially since she had discovered that her mother was pregnant.  
'In the end, her wish had come true'- Emma had thought.  
Now she would have another child, finally a baby she would be able to raise.  
Emma was happy for them, really.  
It didn't matter that she hadn't been the one filled with care and attention, nor did it matter that the new baby would probably capture all of her parents' attention and love.  
She was happy for her them.  
After all, she was a grown-up woman; she had a son herself; she had other, more important, tasks than...being a daughter. And she could totally understand their need of finally raising a child of theirs.  
What she really couldn't understand was the little pang of sadness she felt in her chest, just like that news was hurting her somehow.  
But she really didn't know why. She couldn't demand her parents' full attention now that she was thirty, could she?

That had been the first change she had found out about.  
Now she was even more worried than before about what else might have changed during her one-year absence.  
And maybe, the real cause of that pang of sadness she felt was not her new sibling, but rather the fear of being left out from what she had started to consider her home once again, the fear of having lost her place in Storybrooke.  
If anything, she still had Henry by her side.  
During that year spent all by themselves, it had felt like they two were a unit, a team ready to have each other's back whenever the situation required it. They had grown closer than they had ever been before.  
They hadn't just been a mother and a son; they had been also friends, and accomplices.  
And now this gave her the certainty that she would never lose him, no matter what.  
If things got bad, if she didn't succeed in finding her place in that community again, they could always decide to go back to New York and get back their previous life, the normal one.  
Thinking about it now didn't seem so absurd. If Regina...

Yeah, this was her real problem, Regina.  
What she was really wondering, what she had wondered the whole way there, was how things would be with her, now that there wasn't a curse anymore nor a different dimension to make them apart.  
How was Regina? Was she alone? Had she found someone? Had she simply chosen to give up on her?  
Was she angry with her?  
No, she wasn't allowed to be angry and Emma couldn't allow herself to feel sorry for something which hadn't been entirely her fault.  
Fate had divided them, though they had never really accepted to be united before.  
They hadn't been courageous enough, but Emma hadn't been just like Regina.  
They were both at fault.  
Just, at least, Emma had admitted the truth. Regina had not. Still, she had filled Emma's memories with her presence, making her suffer and miss her in the name of something she hadn't even had the courage to admit.  
That hadn't been right, Emma thought. This thought had refused to leave her mind the entire way to Storybrooke, and still refused to, now that she was searching for Regina.  
Because, first of all, she needed to talk to her.  
And it wasn't just because she had believed, for a whole year, that she had lost her forever or because her heart was barely remaining in her chest since she had got out of her car and had truly realized she was going to see her again,it was also because Regina surely knew something more about this curse.  
It was mainly for this reason, yes.

So, when she knocked on her house's door and no one answered, she was left pretty disappointed.  
She had just left Henry at her parents' house, introducing them to him as a couple of kind friends who would host them while they were in Storybrooke, and right after that, she had headed to Regina's house.  
Yes, it was late in the night, but she didn't care.  
With all what was happening, she doubted Regina would be pacefully asleep.  
From what she remembered, she had never slept much, not even under normal circumstances.  
And if she wasn't in her house, again from her memory, there was only one place where she could be, her vault.  
Emma went back to her car and headed towards that place.

As soon as she was out of the town centre, the darkness of the woods surrounded her, and for the first time, it gave her a shiver.  
Maybe it was for that feeling of near danger she felt in her gut, caused by the weirdness of that whole situation.  
She definitely wasn't used to all that darkness anymore. In New York, you could find complete darkness nowhere.  
But the absence of other things besides the road soon made her thoughts come back to Regina.  
Was she really at her vault?  
She doubted she refused to see her; she had not even felt her magical presence in her house.  
What if something was happened to her? What if Storybrooke citizens had accused her of casting this other curse?  
Of course, they had- she thought.  
From what her mother had told her, Regina was unaware, like all of them about that situation, or at least that was what she said. And Emma believed in Regina, she always had.  
But not everybody did, and she couldn't even really blame them for that.  
What if they had decided to take their revenge right then?  
Another shiver ran down her spine.  
She shook her head. Regina had magic; she could defend herself.  
She took a deep breath to calm down. 

But soon, another terrible question seeped in her mind.  
What if she was with someone else?  
She felt her stomach burning and twitching at that thought.  
And what was that? Jealousy? Was she really allowed to be jealous of her?  
After all, nothing bonded them, and Emma herself had been about to marry Walsh. He was a flying monkey and she was without her memories, but whatever...  
Regina was much prettier than her; she surely had found someone.  
And did he deserve her? Did he believe in her unconditionally, as Emma used to do?  
Did he treat her well enough?  
Did he love her? Did he truly love her, just like she used to do?  
She noticed she was pressing the accelerator more and more in frustration, and she forced herself to bring her attention back onto the road and to slow down. An accident was the last thing she needed right then. 

The truth was, she reflected, as she became calmer, that she couldn't stand the idea of Regina being with someone else. She would never. Because she would have never left her if she hadn't been forced to.  
Despite everything they had been through, deep inside of her, she knew she would never be able to let her go completely.  
And after all that Regina had done to her heart and even to her mind, she would never be able to accept someone else neither in her life nor in her own, now that she knew the truth.  
Not that she hadn't really loved Walsh, he was really nice; she hadn't been lying when she had decided to say yes to his proposal.  
Sure, it wasn't a kind of love so powerful and destructive, like the one she felt for Regina, but it could have been enough just for one life.  
And it shocked her how easily she was accepting the fact that she loved Regina.  
In the past, she would have never been so open, not even with herself, about a feeling so strong, but now...  
It felt almost like the year of distance had stabilized an awareness in her mind.  
Or maybe, it had been the memories Regina had created for her.  
But if someone else had created her memories, how could she be sure that those feelings were real?  
What if she just believed to love Regina? If it wasn't true, she would ruin her life for nothing.  
But the thing was, she tried to reassure herself, that deep inside of her, she had known she loved Regina since that oh-so-distant day in the mine.  
And no fake memory nor real dream could ever change her mind about that.  
All that had happened had just...made her totally conscious about it. 

But it was too early to think about that, she scolded herself.  
All she needed right then was clarity. She couldn't allow herself to get distracted thinking about how much she loved her or in which way Regina could be ripped away from her once again.  
She needed to remain concentrated in order to understand all that had happened and was still happening in her mind. Because the memories were still overlapping one another, and in some moments, it almost took an effort to discern reality from dream.  
It was a little disturbing, to say the least. 

But first of all, she had to find Regina and to know if she was ok.  
Then, she had to ask her what she knew about the curse.  
Then, probably, no, surely, she had to know what had she done with her memories and why.  
Only in the end, she would ask her what they were going to be from then on.  
Only in the end, she would discover her sentence: love or longing.  
Life or death.

Regina's vault was dark when she reached it, at least on the outside.  
She had never much liked that place in the middle of the graveyard, but after all, it was in Regina's style, wasn't it? All dark and creepy on the outside, comfortable and warm on the inside.  
She tried to open the door and at first, she found a magic shield. But, weirdly enough, as soon as she touched it with her hand, it seemed to disappear.  
Pretty dazed by what had just happened, she cautiously passed through the entrance and found herself in complete darkness save for the faint orange light she saw coming from the basement underneath.  
Hearing no sounds at all, she started going down the stone stairs a little fearfully.

She didn't know what she was going to find, maybe Regina, maybe the one responsible for this new curse.  
All that Emma knew, was that the beating of her heart echoing in her head had become pretty annoying.  
And it wasn't beating in fear, but in anticipation, and this made it even more annoying.  
Why the hell did she have to react like that to the possibility of meeting Regina again?  
If she just had known how to keep tabs on her heart, she probably wouldn't have even found herself in that terrible situation.  
Instead, there she was, shivering just at the thought of two deep brown eyes, which would drown in hers, and of the softest lips she had ever tasted.  
She swallowed, preventing her mind from wandering around once more and forcing her whole attention to be fixed on whatever she was going to find inside there. 

When she arrived on the last step, she could finally see the whole space before her.  
It was exactly as she remembered and, just like she had imagined or maybe hoped, she found Regina standing in the middle of it, with a threatening look on her face and a crackling fire-ball on the palm of her hand ready to be thrown.  
Emma put her hands up at once, following her own survival instinct, but as soon as her eyes laid on Regina's figure, something else filled her body.  
And she was incapable of defining it really, because it was so many things all together that it could seem like nothing at all.  
It was incredulity of being really there, again in front of her, staring at her expression, which was anger faded into astonishment.  
It was amazement, because Regina was even more beautiful than Emma remembered, with her dark hair now a little longer, her eyes almost black among the shadows of the vault, sparkling as they reflected the flames of the many candles all around her, just like a night sky full of stars, with her perfect body Emma had learnt to know so well and that though she believed she would never totally discover.  
It was a blissful feeling of being alive and real once again, it was fear of being unworthy, and an endless searching for something so good she had done in her life to deserve another chance with her. 

She swallowed, still keeping her hands up.  
Goddess, how much she had missed Regina!  
She hadn't really understood how much she missed her until she found her again.  
And just one sight of her was enough to make her realize that no one in this world could ever be for her compared to what Regina was. She was unique; she was special.  
And she would always be, no matter how things would go next. 

Regina was staring, astonished at her too. It took her a couple of moments to realize that she still had a burning (and threatening) fireball on her hand, before making it disappear.  
When she did, Emma exhaled in relief and lowered her hands.  
But they remained silent all the same, maybe they couldn't find the right words, maybe they just didn't want to, or maybe there would never be enough right words to give a shape to what they were feeling right in that moment.  
The time seemed to freeze. The night was still, and not even a breath of wind would dare to seep between them, breaking that static atmosphere.  
It was just the two of them, and the weight of that cruel fate, which bonded them and made them part again and again, just like they had been puppets in its game, just like it existed in order to destroy them.  
But, terrifyingly enough, they had found each other once again. They had defeated that plan which wanted to keep them apart, or maybe that moment, that curse, was just part of it and they were exactly following their already defined path.  
Sometimes, this was the way it worked.  
But it didn't matter, not really, when they had one another in front of their eyes. 

Regina swallowed, her mouth closed shut.  
Emma decided to speak, because that silence started suffocating her.  
"Hey...Regina..."  
Her vocal cords exhaled her name, her tongue tasted it, her lips caressed it, slowly letting it overcome their limit, the limit in which it had been kept for too long.  
But her name brings inside it the meaning of everything, and soon Emma had nothing else to say.  
What else could make sense besides her name spoke after all that time?  
But, "Emma..." Regina replayed, and her name also took a new meaning.  
It was relief, fear, uncertainty and hope.  
And Emma loved the way it sounded and remained in her ears. 

"...What are you doing here?" Regina asked, finally pulling her out of that hurricane of thoughts and feelings, which was slowly swallowing her in its depths.  
"I'm..." she noticed her voice was unsteady and cleared her throat.  
"I was searching for you, you were not at your house, so... I guess I broke your magical shield out there."  
But Regina cut her off, clearly not minding it, which was strange of her.  
"I know. I mean...what are you doing here in Storybrooke?"  
Emma kept looking at her, as though she felt some kind of fear creeping up her spine. Why was she asking that question? Didn't she want her there?  
But, once again, she scolded herself. That was not the time.  
She had to keep her mind clear; she needed to concentrate.  
She repeated, once again, the timeline she had prepared in her mind and took a deep breath.  
"Hook came to New York searching for me. He told you needed me. I came."  
Emma didn't miss the grimace on Regina's face when she mentioned the man. It wasn't a mystery that Regina had never accepted him among them at all. Maybe she had even been jealous of him.  
It was almost ridiculous, in Emma's opinion, that someone like Regina could be jealous of someone like Hook.  
However, Regina was staring intently at her face, almost studying her.  
"Are you...ok?" Emma asked awkwardly, scratching the back of her neck.  
Regina didn't answer. Instead, she kept looking at her questioningly, until finally she expressed her doubt.  
"Do you...remember?"  
Emma energetically nodded as soon as she heard the question  
"Yeah, yeah. I took a memory potion."  
Regina seemed to relax a bit, but still there was something off with her.  
Emma tried to go on with her scheduled argument, without showing her inopportune interest and avoiding asking all of her questions at once. Also, because she believed she would need a great amount of courage to ask some of them, and in that moment, she didn't feel like she had enough.  
"What's happened?" she just asked.  
Regina slowly shook her head.  
"I've no idea. Everyone think I've cast this curse too, of course, but I really don't remember. If I did it, there must have been a reason, and I'm trying to find it." she said.  
" In order to do it, I'm trying to get my memories back" she added, just to shut her mouth a second later, looking away.  
And in that moment, Emma understood perfectly well what was tormenting the other woman.  
But, a bit for revenge and a bit for her own lack of courage, she decided to let her suffer by going ahead with her questions.  
"Don't you have a memory potion?"  
"Do you believe that if I had, I would still be like this?" she snapped back, glancing at her.  
Emma looked away.  
"Right. Sorry. Just asking."  
She heard Regina take a deep breath and slightly shake her head.  
"No, I'm sorry. It's just that...being her, cursed once again, without even remembering what had happened is...upsetting me."  
Emma nodded and attempted a smile.  
"I understand. Discovering that the life I remembered wasn't mine had been...pretty disturbing, to say the least."  
Regina didn't look at her and Emma suddenly had no idea what to say.  
How was Regina feeling? She couldn't help asking herself.  
Did she felt guilty for what she had done to her memories or was she just ashamed of it, since it could be considered a sort of admission? Had Regina actually tried to admit something?  
What had been the real aim of putting herself in Emma's new memories?  
What had she hoped to gain by doing that?  
Why had she wanted to be remembered?

These and more questions crowded Emma's mind, but when she was about to speak them out loud, nothing left her mouth but another.  
"Are you ok?"  
Emma didn't dare say her name once again. Now, it had become too precious and fragile to be used superficially.  
Just then, Regina looked at her.  
"I guess I am..."  
Then, a light crossed the brunette's eyes and she gave Emma a gaze, filled with renewed interest and hope.  
"Where is Henry? How is he?"  
Emma spontaneously smiled. She had missed the way Regina put Henry above everything, the way she seemed to come back to life every time she heard his name.  
For a short moment, a memory of Regina holding a baby Henry in her arms, rocking him softly, crossed her mind. It was one of the fake ones, but right then, it seemed so real again that her heart ached.  
"Henry is alright. He's at my parents now."  
"Does he..."  
Emma shook her head sadly before she could end her question.  
"No. He doesn't remember anything. The potion was only enough for one person."  
Regina abruptly became sad again, and Emma's felt her heart drop with the other's gaze.  
"I'm sorry. But...maybe staying here will make him remember something, or...I don't know, we could make another potion."  
She felt the urge to say.  
Regina nodded. "I will. For him and for...all of us. We need to remember who did this and why."  
Emma was still looking at her when she awkwardly said.  
"I could...help you make the potion. You know, if you need anything, I could provide it for you... "  
Regina raised her gaze on her again.  
"I'm sure you would." she just said.  
They suddenly fell into silence, a thick, scary silence they didn't know how to fill.  
Not that they had nothing to say to each other; instead, Emma had so many things to ask her that she could have stayed there all night long.  
It was just...she knew what she wanted to ask, but she didn't really knew what she actually wanted to know.  
Regina, on the other hand, knew Emma enough to expect the influx of questions which were about to pour on her, and she was just waiting for them.  
After all, she knew exactly what she had done and why.  
At that time, she believed she would never see Emma again, so she had created those memories without worrying too much about it, but now, Emma was in front of her once again, and she would have to face the consequences of her actions.  
And honestly, they both knew that loitering around the real topic was useless, because, sooner or later, their conversation would get there, so it was better to face it at once to put an end, once for all, to all of that. 

And when Emma understood Regina was waiting exactly for that, she spoke.  
"Why?" she just asked, knowing the other woman knew all too well what she was talking about.  
Regina swallowed and looked quickly around, before answering.  
"I didn't want Henry to forget me."  
Emma remained silent, staring at her. One, two seconds. Then, she spoke again.  
"It wasn't fair."  
Regina's eyes remained fixed on the ground.  
"I'm sorry" she whispered.  
And something inside Emma switched on. A sudden rage, maybe almost unjustified, fed with all the sorrow she held inside of her, from her real past and from her fake one, fired by all the love she had felt and lost and which she still fought for.  
"You're sorry? Really?" she snapped at her  
"I thought you would gave me good memories."  
"Weren't they good?" Regina asked, and that question set Emma's rage on fire even more. She knew exactly what she had done, and once again she was pretending that she had nothing to do with it.  
Suddenly she felt like she couldn't stand her pretending, not anymore.  
"Weren't they good? They were..." she stopped, trying to find the right words.  
They had been more than good, but they had also been painful and cruel and...  
"They were perfect, at first. But then they were also terribly painful, and I've carried the weight of all that pain, on my shoulder, for a whole year.  
It has influenced my every action, it has...tormented me!  
After all we had been through... how did you dare?"  
And why the hell wasn't Regina looking at her? She had to see her eyes, the sincerity in her words, the sorrow, the real sorrow she had given her.  
"I'm..."  
"Don't say that you're sorry again. I can do nothing with your apologies. I want to know.  
Regina, look in my eyes!" she almost shouted.  
Saying her name sent a shiver down her spine, but she tried to ignore it, as well as the water she started to feel at the corner of her eyes.  
Anyway, Regina looked at her, and there was so much guilt in her eyes that, for a moment, Emma felt sorry for her previous words, but she needed to know.  
She couldn't be the sacrificial lamb anymore. That time was already over for the both of them.  
"I just wanted Henry to remember me."  
"And you had no other way of doing it besides putting yourself in my memories, as the greatest love of my life, who I lost forever?"  
Emma's voice broke and she tried to regain composure, taking deep breaths.  
But now, there was astonishment on Regina's face and that was something which took her aback.  
"What?" the brunette barely whispered.  
Emma tore her gaze away, trying to hide her tears, feeling deprived of the courage to confess it again. Because, after all, that was a confession, especially to herself.  
In some way, even if all that life had been fake, she was suffering for it.  
And yes, Regina had probably put new emotions in her memory too, but she knew she loved Regina since before that, so maybe she would have gotten to that point anyway.  
"Emma." Regina peremptorily called her attention back on herself.  
Emma raised her gaze, blinking a couple of time to push back tears.  
"What did you remember?"  
A bitter laugh gushed out from the blonde lips, and with it, all of her rage powerfully came back.  
"Don't play this game with me, Regina. I have had enough. I have had enough of your secrets, of your apologies, of your rejections and even of this push and pull. This was fun, at first, when there was still something to laugh about, but now it's too late. If all you want is to have fun, then I'm out. "  
"Emma, what are you..." Regina tried to ask, but Emma cut her off.  
"No, now you listen!"  
Emma felt her lungs and throat burning from the effort of holding back tears. She was wheezing, as her mind raced over her control and her lips started revealing truths too long hidden.  
And this time, not even the sight of Regina's watery eyes fixed in hers, was able to stop her.  
"I've chased you for a long time. I've trusted you like no one else did, I've always given you another chance, even after knowing the truth. And yes, I've made mistakes many times, but I've always come back to you to say sorry. I've also ran away, because I'm a coward and this is what cowards do.  
I've ran for all my life, until one day I understood that there was something more important than fear, than rancor and even than my role as the savior of this town. There was you. And I felt that I would have done anything for you, more than I've done for anyone before. I've finally felt useful, really useful, to someone. I've felt like I found a place where I could be me and I would be accepted but..." she lost her voice for a moment, "...but then you pushed my away like everyone had done before you. You rejected me, and I ran away because, even if I didn't believe you and I don't believe you now, I couldn't risk losing everything I had just found for you, because you gave me no certainties. I couldn't know if you would risk the same, I couldn't know if you loved me the same as I loved you, because, not even in the end, not even when I've forgave you all the same, because I had been about to lose you and I had understood you were just too much to lose, not even then, you told me the truth, not even then, you said sorry!"  
She was panting by then, but she didn't care, because, as tears were forming in Regina's eyes, her heart was getting lighter and lighter with every word that left her, with every confession she blurted out.  
"I loved you, and I told you. I chased you and every time I reached for you, you have slipped away!  
You know what? I think you don't want to be loved, because if you accepted it, you would become aware that you deserve to be loved, and you can't forgive yourself, can you?"  
She took a breath, looking deeper and deeper inside her eyes, piercing her soul.  
Her voice became not much louder than a whisper.  
"You do not really fear losing Henry. You fear losing yourself, the person you've built throughout all these years, the unloved one, the villain reborn from the ashes of the victim, a victim herself.  
The real question is...if you don't want to forgive you, why should anyone else? "  
She heard the sound before the heat.  
Regina slapped her right in the face without saying a word. Emma fell into an astonished silence.  
She stared at Regina wide-eyed, bringing a hand up to her hit, burning cheek, while a tear rolled down it, silently wetting her fingers.  
"Stop it." Regina just said.  
The vein on her forehead was beating, her face was red and some tears were making their way down her cheeks too, but somehow she didn't seem weak or miserable, she showed such authority and pride instead, that Emma found herself unable to reply.  
"I've chosen to redeem myself, but this doesn't make me a fool you can insult.  
You speak and speak but you don't even know what you're speaking about, do you?"  
But that question didn't warrant an answer, so they just stood there, silently fighting against their tears, against one another and against themselves, both too furious, hurt and scared to be able to think clearly.  
Then Regina swallowed and went on speaking.  
"Why now? Why do you come here accusing me only today, when you could have done it plenty of times?  
I've never asked you anything, Emma. Everything you gave me was just what you wanted to give me. You can't rub it in my face now because I don't deserve it. "  
At those words, Emma seemed to get out of her trance. Her eyes lit up in rage once again, as she answered.  
"No, it's the truth. You have never asked me anything, until you put yourself in my memory."  
"You said you didn't want to forget, didn't you?"  
Emma looked almost shocked.  
"No! Yes, but...you said you would give us new memories of a happy life together; you deceived me!"  
"I've not deceived you, Emma!" Regina snapped back.  
"If instead of accusing and insulting me, you told me what your fake memories looked like, maybe you would understand something!"  
Emma laughed bitterly once again.  
"What is there to understand? You just had your fun making me suffer, that's all. You never cared about my memories or my happiness, you just wanted to get your revenge!"  
Now it was Regina's turn to be shocked and upset.  
"Revenge for what? Goddess Emma, you never did anything to me!"  
"Wow, so this is how you treat someone who hasn't done anything to you? Maybe I was wrong, and my mother was right, after all!"  
She grabbed Regina's wrist as her hand was flying towards her face once again, and she could clearly see Regina shiver at the warning look she sent her.  
"Don't you dare slap me ever again. I'm not a child. Talk as an adult, if you have the courage to."  
Regina stared back at her for a moment and then tugged back her arm.  
"And you don’t talk about things you know nothing about."  
Just then, Emma noticed how close she had got to Regina. Both breathing deeply, they were mere millimeters apart, letting their eyes get lost into one another's features, following the gleaming paths their tears had left on them.  
It was unavoidable. They always were attracted to each other, like magnets, even while screaming in one another's face.  
After all, that was how everything had started between them.  
And, just like then, Emma's eyes fell on Regina's trembling lips, on her scar, and slowly raised to her eyes, noticing that she had no make-up on, but that she was stunning all the same.  
But she couldn't allow Regina to always have that effect on her. After a year, she had almost forgotten what it felt like, how looking at her elicited every particle of her body and mind, how mind-blowing her scent was.  
She took a step back in order to regain clarity in her mind  
"Fine, I won't. Let's talk about us, then."  
Regina rose an eyebrow, taking a step back in turn and crossing her arms on her chest.  
"Aren't we already?"  
Emma didn't have enough patience to retort so she just went on.  
"You didn't want Henry to forget you, fine, I got this, but why like this? Why did you have to make those memories painful for me? Couldn't you find another way?"  
Regina got upset, once again, at those words.  
"This is what you refuse to understand! If just you kept your big mouth closed for once and let me speak, maybe you would! I didn't create your memories as a movie or...a story, ok? Do you think it could have been possible for me to create every detail of them in just those few minutes? I just outlined them, the events inside them, and yes, even the people. But I just set the base of them. I just made sure that you would have some happiness in your past , that you wouldn't have given up Henry, and that's all. I just put myself inside them as someone who helped you for a time of your life, someone who had to disappear, of course, but then at least you would have been able to tell Henry about me. At least inside them, in that fake reality, I would have done something for you. That was my gift. That was my gratitude for what you had done for me. That was my way of saying sorry."  
Emma was taken aback by those words. What did they mean? Was Regina saying she had nothing to do with her emotions?  
She wasn't expecting something like that. She had never considered it in that way.  
And she probably should have asked her many more questions, but she was only able to ask one thing, probably because she was fearing, once again, to feel guilty about her own behavior, discovering Regina wasn't at fault at all, after all.  
"Were you feeling sorry?"  
Regina tore away her gaze and barely nodded.  
"You said it, didn't you? I've never denied I have faults too. And yes, even if it doesn't look like it, I can feel sorry too. It's just not so easy to admit it when you have to defend yourself from everybody, you know..." her voice faded out and Emma just kept looking at her, almost studying her expression.  
"You have to defend you from yourself too, right?" she asked, sounding softer than she had wished to.  
Regina crossed her gaze for a second, then looked away again.  
" Especially." She answered, so low that Emma barely heard her.  
"The thing is," she resumed " that I couldn't change your feelings and emotions. Everything you felt, and how you felt it, has been on you. "  
It was not so easy now for Emma to keep looking her in the eyes after what she had admitted.  
"So, do you mean that..."  
"What I mean," Regina interrupted her, clearly tired of being accused "is that if you hadn't already felt those things, you would not have felt it in your memories."  
So, there she was. She had deceived herself all along, accusing Regina for her suffering and love when she herself had been the only cause of them, just for the fear of admitting what she really felt.  
'Really a great proof of cleverness Emma, congrats!'- she scolded herself.  
If Regina had tried to slap her another time, right then, she would probably have been glad.  
When she awkwardly raised her gaze on the brunette once again, she found her looking around frantically, just like she was searching for the courage to ask something.  
"Regina..." Emma started, probably because now she had something to apologize for, but Regina interrupted her.  
"Would you tell me about your memories?" she asked, trying to keep eye-contact with her.  
Emma looked at her a little astonished.  
"I..."  
"Please" the brunette added, pulling at the strings of Emma's heart.  
And Emma couldn't deny anything to a pleading Regina, nor to her soft voice nor to her almost frightened eyes, so she just nodded.  
"Ok. " she said softly. Then she started telling that story, she started telling about them.  
"So...you were..." but as she was speaking a thought crossed her mind and she stopped.  
"Wait a minute."  
She bustled about the big rectangular bag she brought with her, still hanging from her shoulder, and pulled her photo album out, Henry's storybook, the same one, which once held all of their stories.  
Regina was looking perplexed at her.  
"What's that?"  
Emma smiled slightly, feeling almost satisfied with knowing something the other didn't.  
"This, is something you have to see."  
She said, getting closer to a piece of furniture against the stone wall and laying the book carefully on it, among some candles.  
A still perplexed Regina followed her silently.  
Then, Emma turned towards her.  
"I found this in my house in New York, just a few days before Hook came searching for me. It has been almost like...it has always been there, and I've always known about it, and at the same time, it has felt like I discovered it only then. I didn't recognize it then, but now I'm pretty sure it's Henry's storybook."  
Regina looked at her surprised.  
"But...how did you have it? Why didn't it disappear with the whole town, when I deleted the curse?"  
Emma shrugged.  
"I don't know. This is more your field of knowledge. It's probably because we brought it outside Storybrooke with us before it all disappeared, and in the world without magic, it couldn't just disappear.  
Or maybe, the thing you had done to our memories has created this too. I don't know, but...just look through it, ok?"  
Regina eyed her suspiciously, but then agreed and, with a still slightly shaking hand, opened it.  
She remained open-mouthed when she saw the picture which dominated the first page along with some writings and their signature at the bottom.  
"This is Henry..."  
She noticed him first before anything else, just one year old, clung to her arms, right in the centre of the photograph. Regina's fingers caressed his small figure and Emma felt touched by all the care she could see in that motion.  
Then her fingers moved towards the corners of the picture and then of the page, gliding over their signatures, as she became aware of the real matter.  
They were so slender and delicately pale that Emma couldn't help being left almost bewitched, staring at their movement.  
"This is us..."  
Her voice sounded a little surprised. She looked back at Emma.  
"How is that possible? We never took this."  
Emma nodded, all too conscious about it.  
"Of course we didn't. This is the thing."  
She turned the pages, showing her more pictures.  
"What are these? How do you have all of these pictures of Henry as a baby?"  
she wondered, now a little suspicious. Emma defended herself before it was too late.  
"Don't start accusing me. I haven't stolen from you or anything like that. They were just here. These are pictures of my memories, Regina."  
Regina parted her lips to speak, but then closed them again. Just after a few seconds of astonished staring, she dared to talk again.  
"Were these your memories?" she asked.  
Emma nodded.  
"They were. You know, you had been Henry's foster mother during my last few months in prison and, once I got out, you helped me raise him."  
They skimmed over the out-of-focus pictures of his first days with Emma, and a small smile appeared on Emma's lips, as she told that story. True or not, maybe now more blurred and confused than ever, those memories still remained of a life she had once had, in some way.  
And she had been honest. That part of her memories was more than good, it was perfect.

Turning another page, she saw a picture of Henry taken in the park and she remembered she still had a lot to say about it, so she went on with the story.  
"You know...after a few months we…”found” each other in this park and... and then we kissed and…after that, we started having something between us. Of course, it wasn't a real relationship, it was more...complicated than that. But whatever, we were...I was happy. We were raising Henry together; we almost lived together, actually, and I had a good job, so...there was nothing more I could ask for."  
Regina barely dared to steal a glance at her, before gluing her eyes on the pages again.  
They went through the pictures silently, smiling unconsciously before a funny scene and hiding the sighs of their hearts before a tender one, while their fingers were almost chasing each other sliding on the paper.  
They really had been good memories, Emma thought. What she wouldn't do to really have a time like that in her life. She couldn't have it, though, not even then.  
Lost in her own thoughts, Emma hadn't noticed they had already reached the last page and that Regina was about to turn it, so she reached for the corner of the page too, finding her fingers wrapped around Regina's when she laid her hand.  
They both stiffened at the contact, as if they hadn't ever touched one another before. Then, without speaking or sharing a glance, they just turned it together.  
It just felt right to. 

On the last page, there were other pictures from Henry's first birthday, matched with funny writings in Regina's usual, elegant calligraphy.  
Emma didn't have to think twice before spontaneously sharing some further details about that day.  
"We celebrated his first birthday together. You were..."  
'stunning in your dress'- she wanted to say, but fortunately she noticed it before speaking and swallowed thinking of different words.  
"You made him a delicious cake and he wiped off some cream with his finger while we were distracted and then you made gifts for me too, even if I didn't agree.  
On this occasion, you gave me this album and also...the camera I found in Neal's apartment in New York, the one Henry had left there the last time we had gone to find Neal himself. " Emma hesitated a second before deciding to say something more.  
"You said...you said these gifts would be useful to me since we still had a lot of pictures to take."  
Regina smiled even more, and after some seconds of silence she suddenly spoke.  
"You know, on Henry's first birthday...there was just him and me. I bought him a little stuffed giraffe and I really made him a chocolate cake. For once, I didn't even go to work. I stayed at home all day playing with him and enjoying his laughter."  
Emma was watching her as she spoke and kept staring at the pictures in front of her.  
Regina was so beautiful she could barely breath.  
She wasn't just pretty, she was beautiful, and she became even more so when those sparkles of joy and unconditional love for her son glimmered in her eyes.  
And Emma couldn't help but listen to her every word, almost enchanted.  
"At the end of the day, Doctor Hopper knocked at my door. Of course, I scolded him as soon as I saw him, but...he just smiled and handed me that camera. It surprised me because...well, they were all under the curse and one day should have been exactly as the previous one for them. He should have not even remembered I had spoken to him about Henry when I first adopted him."  
"Why had you?" Emma blurted out without thinking, regretting it the moment after.  
But weirdly, Regina didn't get mad at her question. She looked to be almost enchanted by those pictures, so much, that she couldn't tear her gaze away from them, or her attention.  
"I wasn't sure about my...ability to be a mother. The first period with him had been...pretty hard and I just needed someone to talk to about it. "  
Emma nodded, inviting her to go on with her story.  
"Anyway, for some strange reason, he seemed to remember Henry's birthday and our previous conversation.  
He said that the camera would help me fully live the present and not fear the future.  
At first, I obviously ignored it and his advice, but then...I don't know. It became a sort of ritual for us to take a picture on a special day or simply when Henry had a cute little smile on his lips.  
When he became old enough to take care of it, I gave it to him because...I've always felt like it belonged to him really. And now..."  
Emma ended the sentence for her.  
"Now, it helped me get back my true memories. I saw Storybrooke pictures inside it and...I started to believe."  
Regina nodded thoughtfully but stayed silent.  
" I would have liked to live those moments with you two..." Emma admitted after some seconds.  
Regina stiffened once again, but still didn't say anything. Now her gaze was distant. It just laid on the page but was concentrated on something else.  
Emma tried to speak again, almost whispering.  
"You know, you were...different, in my memories. it looked like...you were younger. And your heart was...somehow lighter."  
Regina nodded and then seemed to take back control of herself.  
"That was due to me. I created my...character. I wanted you to remember a different version of me, a better one. I took the chance to be…someone who had done something good and… who had tried to help her father, not kill him.”  
Her voice faded off for a second and Emma could clearly see all the pain held inside those words, the pain of her worst regret.  
“The actual version of me...would have done nothing good for you."  
Emma smiled lightly.  
"You don't know that. I liked that version of you, but...honestly, I prefer the true one."  
Regina stared at her, trying to hide her wonder.  
"You do?"  
Emma nodded.  
"Yes, of course. She was a beautiful person but...she just wasn't you, not really. She wasn't the Regina Mills I know."  
Regina kept staring at her, until a thought crossed her mind. She swallowed, gathering enough courage to ask her the question.  
"They seem like...pretty good memories, though. Why did you say they were also terrible?  
What...what happened after this?"  
Emma didn't really want to answer that, but after all, Regina needed to know. After how Emma had accused her, bringing her to tears, she at least deserved to know.  
"Well, one day, we just understood that...we couldn't fix us. We loved each other, but there were too many differences between us. We always fought and that just wasn't right, neither for us nor for Henry, but especially not for him. So, you left for Europe, to go see your deadly sick mother, and I just let you go. You never came back.  
I lost you without rancor or rage or guilt, that time. I just lost you. But the loss of you tormented me every day since then. Even if ten years had passed, I still always thought about you. And this was because it actually hadn't been ten years, but barely one.  
Then, after you had left, I had a very difficult period alone with Henry, but somehow we managed to survive, and in the end...after the fire in Boston, I found a good job, a house in New York and almost everything I've ever wished for. "  
She smiled weakly.  
"We were happy, you know."  
When she turned, she saw Regina was still staring at her, but this time, she almost saw fear and uncertainty in her eyes.  
"Was Henry happy? Did he have friends?"  
Emma nodded.  
"He did. Though, he didn't have his full family anymore, he had just me."  
"Emma."  
She looked at her once again, perplexed.  
"Was he happy?"  
Emma tore away her gaze. Yes, Henry was happy, or at least he seemed to be. But would it be right to say that to Regina, who must have suffered the whole time?  
But he was her son, too. Once again, she deserved to know.  
"Yes, he was. But...Regina, he didn't remember you."  
Regina nodded while a little bitter smile spread on her lips.  
"I know."  
And there was so much sadness in that admission that Emma couldn't hold herself back from saying something more.  
"He doesn't remember, but he knows about you."  
The brunette stopped smiling and looked at her in wonder.  
"Did you tell him?"  
Emma smiled sincerely in front of her surprised expression.  
"Of course, I did. And he saw these pictures."  
But Regina seemed to suddenly realize something and got sad once again.  
"So now he hates me for having abandoned you..."  
Emma shook her head.  
"He didn't hate you. He..." she stopped for a second, remembering the conversation she had had with her son right before leaving their house.  
"...he has understood how important you were to me."  
"How...what?"  
Emma blushed, realizing what she had just said, and tried to dissimulate it with nonchalance.  
"In my memories, you were important to me. You had helped me raise Henry and steady my life, so..."  
Regina nodded without investigating further.  
And it was funny- Emma thought.  
It was really funny how, after everything they had just been through, after everything she herself had said and confessed just a few minutes before, in some almost unconscious way, they still tried to hide the truth, hide their feelings and to seem indifferent from the other's presence or absence in their life, just like it was something marginal, when they both knew it wasn't.  
They were so involved in each other's life by then, that Emma believed it was impossible to disentangle the destiny of one of them from the other's.  
They still pretended they could, as if it wasn't already clear enough how, no matter the events or the circumstances, they always chased each other and eventually succeeded in finding the other in her own dimension, even if that didn't always fitted for the both of them.  
Maybe that race between them would never end, or maybe it could end with just a single word.  
But Emma wouldn't take the first step anymore. She had already exposed herself too much and too many times. If she had done it again, she would have risked being totally destroyed by another rejection.

Then Regina asked something, stopping her stream of thoughts.  
"Were you happy?"  
Emma hinted a smile, looking absently at the space around them.  
"More or less, I'd say. I guess you should define the meaning of the word 'happiness' before.  
Was I at peace with myself? Not at all. Was I over my past? Definitely not, even if I pretended to be. Did I believe in the future? Yes.  
So, as you can see, it all depends on what happiness is for you. I don't think that was happiness for me.  
I was satisfied with my life, yes, and filled with love towards Henry, which is the most important thing, but that wasn't happiness. It couldn't be, since I missed a huge part of my life."  
Just then, she looked at Regina. And as she laid her eyes on her, an unexpected and terrible feeling washed over her. It was sadness for the way in which they had been forced to part; it was relief for being near her once again; it was longing for something they had never had but always wished for, and it was burning desire of knowing if they would ever be capable of having it.  
If they could still have another chance.  
Because deep inside of her, Emma knew they deserved it, and now she needed to know.  
"And what about you? How have you been in the Enchanted Forest?"  
Regina looked away, not even bothering to fake a smile.  
"I don't remember, Emma, but judging on how I felt here, when we came back...I'd say exactly as well as you can imagine."  
Of course, Emma can imagine. Regina had been sad and all alone, facing a whole population who didn't accept her and the ones who had never left the enchanted forest, who surely knew her only as the Evil Queen after what she had done, and who must had contrasted her in every possible way.  
She didn't need a memory potion to know that.  
"Right, no memories, sorry. But did you..." she swallowed. "Did you find someone with you when you came back?"  
Regina looked at her, perplexed.  
"What do you mean?"  
"I mean..." Emma shrugged, thinking she should have minded her own business and not been nosey regarding Regina's private life. But she couldn't help to, because she didn't feel completely out of it yet, even if maybe she was wrong.  
"...I mean someone you felt strangely close to, I don't know, someone who..."  
Regina cut her off.  
"Are you asking me if I found myself someone?"  
Emma awkwardly avoided her eyes, barely nodding.  
"No."  
Relief flowed through her veins, and she felt also a little mean and unfair for being secretly cheering at the loss of memory, which prevented her for remembering an even possible one.  
"And before you could ask," Regina went on, "no, I couldn't have forgotten him because, as you herself had experienced, the feelings remain also without the memories. If there had been something real, then I would have felt it. If it wasn't real, then it's not important." she ended, with a coldness that impressed Emma a bit.

So, now she knew. Now she knew Regina hadn't found her true love, as absurd as it might seem to Emma. Actually, she had always found it very sad that, being unable to develop real emotions, none of Storybrooke's inhabitants could have ever loved her.  
After all, Regina had chosen that destiny, actually living in a ghost town for twenty-eight years, so there was nothing really to be sad about, but...it felt sad to Emma anyway.  
Maybe her judgment was too clouded by her feelings towards Regina. She wondered what kind of savior she would be, then. Probably just one who tries to save everybody, no one left out.  
"And you?" Regina asked out of the blue.  
"Me what?"  
"Have you found yourself someone in New York?"  
Oh.  
Emma couldn't help letting out a small amused laughter. Really, every time she thought about it, she found it more and more funny. A little tragic too.  
"What?" Regina asked sharply, scowling.  
"Nothing, nothing, just..." she regain her composure and slightly shook her head.  
"I was about to marry."  
She saw Regina's face drain.  
"What?!"  
Emma shrugged. "I was about to marry a man. Or, at least, I thought so."  
"You were about to marry?!"  
Every trace of a smile vanished from Emma's face when she saw how furious Regina was.  
She really would never understand that woman.  
If that was jealousy, she thought, than she had absolutely no right to be, because Emma didn't owe her anything, especially not when she didn't even have her in her life.  
"Yes, what's the problem?" she answered, a little aggressive.  
"What's the problem?" Regina asked after her, her expression more and more astounded.  
"You were about to marry someone you barely knew less than a year. You were going to let him get close to Henry..." Regina started accusing her.  
"I don't..." Emma tried to enter in her stream of words, angry and still not understanding why Regina was making such a big deal of it, but she didn't succeed. Only at her next words, she understood what the matter really was.  
"You were about to start a new, perfect life with everything you wanted, with someone else you loved, and still, you had the courage to come here accusing me of having ruined your new, perfect life in New York with my presence in your memories! " she shouted, and for the first time, Emma didn't reply.  
She was feeling strangely guilty by those words, recognizing them as true, and the tears she could see glimmering in Regina's eyes weren't doing anything to ease that feeling.  
What Regina was feeling was not jealousy, at least not only.  
Inside her, there was also rage for Emma's previous unfair accusations and above all, sadness for the way in which Emma would always be able to go on, as Regina couldn't do.  
Her voice trembled a little when she started speaking once again.  
"You should be ashamed. And I shouldn't waste my time talking with you and letting you accuse and insult me whenever you want to! You wanted to know about this new curse? Well, now you have your answers, I don't know anything about it.  
Now, go away from my vault. Go back to New York and to your husband. This town can do perfectly well without you.  
Goodbye, Miss Swan."  
She ended sharply, turning her back to Emma right after and moving away from her and from the still open book, pretending to be searching for something among her potions and her magical instruments.  
Emma stood still, totally taken aback by those words and still unable to replay properly.  
After all, Regina was right. Yeah, she had suffered for the memories she had of her, but at least she had started her year being already over it. Instead, Regina had held many things on her shoulders: the weight of their goodbye, the loss of her son, being alone all year long, even if now she didn't remember it.  
Still, Emma had had the courage to complain and accuse her being involved in her own unhappiness.  
Regina was probably right, she should have been ashamed.  
But Emma knew she didn't want to go away anymore.  
She knew exactly how that situation could end, because she had already lived it just a year before, but now she was the one at fault for it and she was the one who could not walk away.  
"I'm not going away, Regina." She said, this time more resolute than ever.  
Regina opened her arms before letting them fall along her sides, while she turned towards her once again.  
"Why you always have to do this? You accuse me of being the one who deceived you, but actually you are the one who does it every time! First, you make me think you totally accept me, and then you betray me! Then, you come back saying you're sorry and you act as the courageous one, making me feel like the fearful coward, just to show that you are a coward a few moments later!"  
Emma ignored the unfair accusations in that sentence and instead, fixing on the real and deserved ones.  
Yes, maybe sometimes, she acted as the "courageous one", as Regina said, but she did it only when Regina made it feel like she was worthy of being courageous. And Emma would never feel guilty for this.  
"I'm not courageous, I just have nowhere else to go."  
Regina ironically snorted.  
"Don't you have an husband? I'm sure he would be glad to have you back."  
But even if Regina was right, and Emma had completely gone wrong, she lost her patience at these words.  
Because, as much as she laughed about it, she had really felt hurt discovering that Walsh was a monster.  
She really had fallen in love with him, and damn, it was even shameful, but it was the truth!  
And Regina should have at least made an effort to understand it and respect it, in Emma's opinion.  
"First, I let you explain, now you let me explain!"  
Regina scowled at her tone, crossing her arms on her chest, almost in a defensive posture.  
"I can't see what there is to explain actually, Miss Swan...or should I call you Mrs...what's his last name?"  
Emma rolled her eyes.  
"he was a flying monkey, ok?!" she blurted out, and they both fell silent as an astonished expression drew itself on Regina's face.  
"When I had back my memories and I told him I couldn't marry him anymore because I had to come back to my family, he turned into a flying monkey and I killed him. Or...at least I tried to, I don't know if he's actually dead. "  
This time, Regina didn't say anything for a bit, just stared at her.  
Then, when Emma was about to talk again, she did it first.  
"But you were going to marry him when you didn't know it."  
Emma shrugged.  
"Regina, what should I have done? Should I have kept wallowing into my sadness over your abandonment after what seemed like ten years? You were distant in my past, I moved on. And yes, I didn't know him long and now I know I'll never trust a man after knowing him for such a short time, but...he was kind, and smart and... I had to leave my past life behind. I was also doing it for Henry, to give him a family and a happy life!"  
Her voice went a little sharper as she lost her calm.  
Then she looked at Regina, feeling almost next to crying without even knowing why.  
"I'm sorry Regina, ok? Is this what you want to hear? Then I'm sorry! I shouldn't have come here accusing you. I probably shouldn't have come here at all but...all of this hasn't been hard only for you.  
I've seen my life, as you said, my "perfect" life totally destroyed and messed up in a few days.  
I felt threatened and I feared for Henry's sake when Hook started stalking us, then my boyfriend proposed and I started to doubt my true identity. "  
She stopped to take a breath and then started again.  
"All the fake memories about my past came back when I opened that book, and some way it suddenly felt as if I had always had them in my mind, when I had not, and along with the sadness, came dreams. They were dreams of this place. I dreamt about my true memories, even if I didn't know it then, and it confused me even more.  
Moreover, it brought you to my mind once again, along with all the sorrow I remembered as part of our story and...it was a vicious circle I couldn't escape."  
And if she reflected about it for a moment, she could understand how really messed up her mind was right then. It was almost terrifying.  
"When eventually I grown too tired of all of that and I decided to give in and take that potion, I began to have...memories of two different lives running through my mind at the same time, and still now, there are moments in which I almost couldn't discern the real ones from their fakes."  
She really focused on Regina and she saw her staring back intently, with her lips slightly parted in light disbelief, and in what seemed to be deep understanding.  
Emma swallowed.  
"I almost don't recognize myself anymore, do you think it has been easy?"  
Regina didn't answer, but, after all, what Emma was searching for was not an answer.  
"And when I came here..."  
She swallowed again, suddenly uncertain about saying those words, but deciding to give in eventually, just because she felt too tired of hiding and faking her emotions. She felt too tired, and that's all.  
Now she just needed the truth, both from herself and from Regina.  
"When I came here, I remembered all what had been between us, how we parted and...it has been painful, Regina. It has been very painful, because probably you had the time to assimilate all of it during this year and now, you're over it. Or, maybe you just don't care, but for me, it feels like yesterday.  
Just because I forgot about it, it doesn't mean I'm over it. And believe me, I care very much."  
After blurting out all of that, Emma laid her body against the piece of furniture behind her back, where the book was, and fixed her gaze on the ground, taking deep breaths.  
There she was, exposed once again. If nothing else, she had said everything.  
She had been clear and now she had nothing more to hide.  
If Regina really cared about what there had been between them, then she should have been the one to take the next step, because Emma felt really too tired and over it to do so. 

After what felt like eternity, Emma felt something against her arm, a tender, delicate touch, and just then, she raised her gaze.  
Regina was looking at her. She wasn't smiling, and it was sad, because Emma felt like one of Regina's smiles would have done miracles to her mind right then. But she was there, she was close and weirdly...kind.  
"Are you ok?" she asked softly, and maybe, just maybe, also a little worriedly.  
Emma nodded silently. Then, she felt the skin under Regina's touch starting to burn, so she straightened her back and took a step back.  
"I'm sorry, I didn't want to...bother you or anything. You were probably right, I have to go."  
That was the time. That was the time of the truth.  
Emma had stopped waiting for it to come out directly from Regina's mouth, because she knew by then that it would never. She could just make that last try.  
If Regina had let her go away right, then she would never come back.  
She would consider it all over and she would just treat her as her son's mother and nothing more from then on.  
Instead, if Regina had stopped her right then...

"Wait."

Emma's heart skipped a beat.  
She turned facing Regina and she found her looking at the book once more.  
"What?"  
she barely asked, as her blood pumped too loudly in her ears to allow her to say anything more.  
Emma felt like a fool, but she couldn't help reaching Regina's side once again, waiting for her answer.  
Maybe she was going to retort her words one last time, maybe she just wanted to reiterate her ownership on Henry now that he was back, or maybe...  
"What have you said about this book?"  
That surprised Emma.  
But anyway Regina had just stopped her. It had to mean something, right?  
She could stay a little longer, at least to gain some certainty.  
"I don't know, what are you referring to?"  
"Earlier, while you were talking, you said something about having your fake memories back only when you touched this..."  
Emma nodded.  
"Yeah, it's true. One day, I found it and...I don't know, thinking about it now, I remember that before seeing it on my shelf, I didn't remember it, but from then on...I remembered I had brought it with me from Boston, saving it from the fire. "  
Regina looked at her.  
"And what happened when you touched it?"  
"I just..." and then Emma realized something she had never realized before.  
Everything had started right then, when she had first touched that book.  
She slightly widened her eyes.  
"I remembered my fake past. And then I started having dreams about my real one."  
Regina nodded as Emma abruptly turned towards her.  
"What does this mean?"  
Regina's hands brought her hair behind her ears, while she put on a concentrated expression.  
Emma, despite all the questions she had running inside her head, suddenly felt only able to think about how perfect she was in each one of her expressions.  
Her angry one she had seen so many times, her wickedly amused one she had had so much fun wiping away from her face, her relaxed one she had only peeked at, her happy one she had unfortunately rarely seen -which was probably also the most beautiful of them- , and now, even her concentrated one.  
Regina bit her lower lip while she was thinking, and Emma found her eyes hopelessly captured by that motion.  
But she scolded herself. That was not the time to get distracted.  
Too bad Regina had the power to distract her with her beauty in every situation.  
But also her voice was able to distract Emma, so when she spoke, Emma listened carefully, finally bringing her attention back to their concrete problem.  
Not that Regina wasn't a concrete problem for Emma.  
"During the first curse, this book held all of our stories. I wanted to keep it hidden because it was a proof of what I had done and also because...I feared it could awake someone's memory. "  
Emma looked at her, perplexed.  
"So?"  
"I hadn't created it, or at least not willingly, but still it was here. It was in Storybrooke, and...its aim has always been to break the curse, which means..."  
"Making me believe and bringing back everyone's memory." Emma concluded.  
"Exactly! So, if it was with you in New York..."  
Emma tuned towards her completely, a little open-mouthed, as she realized what that meant.  
"It was meant to awake my memory!"  
Regina nodded, slowly looking around absently, clearly still thinking about it.  
"But...how? It held fake pictures of our..." she swallowed, as saying that continued to be awkward.  
" ...our life together. But it never existed, we never..."  
But she stopped when she saw the look in Regina's eyes now fixed on her.  
"Because it wasn't meant to make you believe in the reality you saw, it was meant to make you understand it wasn't true! You said the dreams about your true memories started with it, right? If you had seen real pictures of Storybrooke, you would have never believed them to be true. Instead, seeing pictures you could believe in, you would be also able to doubt them."  
Emma shook her head, more and more confused.  
"But...why ? Why should I remember my real past?"  
Regina had still that look in her eyes that made Emma felt more and more uncomfortable.  
"Because you wanted to."  
"What?"  
Why should she have wanted to remember all that suffering? Why refuse a new, clear and happy life?  
"You didn't want to forget, Emma; you said it yourself. You believed you wanted to, but...it wasn't true. I did not create that book, you have. "  
"M...me? How?"  
Emma didn't know what to believe anymore.  
Regina smiled slightly.  
"Wishes are powerful Emma, don't you know? Especially your wishes. Do you remember what you told me when you first came to Storybrooke?"  
But Emma had already gotten it, and now her mind was lost in thoughts and filled with even more questions.  
"I actually...made a wish..." she whispered, still remembering her exact words from that day.  
"Going away, you...you wished to not forget us. And in the final moment, as Storybrooke disappeared, your magic intertwined with mine and it created something which, using the memories I had given to you, would be able to make you remember the truth one day. And it was like this because you know yourself and you knew that you would have believed in something, only if you had doubted in everything else before."  
Regina's eyes were almost shining with emotions as she spoke. There was amazement in them.  
She was clearly fascinated by all the things magic was able to do, maybe by all the things Emma was able to do; but there was also something sweeter, something closer to her true herself.  
Instead, Emma was completely confused by then and her mind was racing as it tried to keep up with all of that.  
Truth be told, she was actually frightened by all of that, and her eyes were almost watery; she couldn't have said why.  
Maybe what was really scaring her was what that whole situation was screaming: she wanted Regina, she couldn't help coming back to her, she needed her.  
And this just meant that if Regina was really over them by then, she would be lost. 

But Regina was giving her all the answers, right? She could trust her at least for another one, maybe the only one that only Emma could give herself.  
"What does this mean?" she asked, her voice slightly shaking.  
Regina looked in her eyes, making her shiver for the deepness of her gaze. But instead of answering, she looked away while fidgeting with her hands, as if she hadn't known where to put them, as if she had wanted to reach out and...  
Regina had done it, right? She had reached for her hand once and taken it in hers. Maybe Emma could do it too. Also, because right then, Emma almost needed to do it, just like it could, in some way, hold Regina near her.  
So, she did it.  
She reached for her hands and stopped her movements, taking one of them in hers, and the feeling of her fresh skin against her own after so much time was so beautifully upsetting that she squeezed it even more, hoping that feeling of relief she was finding in that contact would never end.  
"Regina..." her name rolled on her tongue as a shiver did on her spine. "What does it mean?"  
And when Regina raised her gaze on Emma, the time in the room seemed to freeze.  
Suddenly, there was just the two of them, suspended in the middle of their lives, lost in the other's eyes, dangerously close and desperately far.  
Suddenly that answer didn't seem so important anymore, because maybe they already knew it.  
Suddenly touching one another's skin became the most important thing in the whole universe, maybe the only one that mattered, as in that innocent contact, they were again finding all the passion they had known and all the tenderness they needed, while defeating that poisonous longing which had been corroding their souls a little more every day. 

But the reconnection of that soul, their soul, which had been broken in two for too long, was interrupted by a weird ray of light that both their pairs of eyes caught, coming from the book next to them.  
They simultaneously turned towards it, but Emma didn't let go of Regina's hand.  
She felt like she couldn't, actually.  
But what they saw on the book startled them probably more than anything else. 

A drawing had appeared on the page right before their eyes. It showed a scene they knew perfectly well and remembered: their last goodbye by the town line.  
In the picture, Regina was holding Emma's hand, promising her good memories, while Emma's eyes were depicted so much gleaming that they seemed almost real.  
Its extreme realism was shocking, its presence itself was, right in that moment when they were in a position so similar to the one in the drawing.  
Still, so many things had changed from then. First of all, now Emma was the one who was holding the other's hand, and the thought of all of those changes was all it took for Emma to finally let go of it.  
Their previous question went lost, as their eyes lingered on the page, willingly forgotten.  
"What the hell is this?" she asked, keeping her voice low, almost fearing to break that peculiar atmosphere they had created all around them. As done so many times before, but still, she would never become tired of it and she didn't want to put an end to.  
Once again, Regina didn't answer. Instead, she put her hands, once again, on the book, getting closer to it, and after having softly caressed the drawing, in a so sweet, almost unwillingly, gesture that touched Emma's heart, she started flipping the pages.  
And all the pages before, the same ones which, until a moment earlier, were holding all the photographs , were now filled by drawings like that.  
Every one of them filled the whole page. There were no words anymore, just images over images, always about something they had lived, or better, shared.  
There was the return from Neverland, the night they had spent together, which memory still hurt Emma, there was how they had moved the moon on the island together, and how they had deactivated the destructive diamond in the mines, together once again.  
And even before, there was the two of them talking together at the welcome back party, the moment when Regina had saved Emma and Mary Margaret from the well, the moment when Emma had reactivated Regina's magic by touching her arm, and even more.  
A hundred moments spent together, saving each other's life or being the only one the other could count on, which flowed before their eyes, in a jubilation of colors, magic and emotions.  
Emma thought she hadn't even ever noticed there were so many before seeing them all together in that moment.  
It was like seeing themselves from the outside in some way, and it was baffling and amazing all at once because they were so powerful when they were together, and still, they had shared so much already up to then, that it suddenly seemed almost stupid to keep on wondering if they could exist together. 

When Regina reached the first page, where the moment of their first encounter laid, she stopped still, holding the pages and turned towards Emma. She looked at her just like she was waiting for an answer to an unasked question, even when Emma had been the one who had asked her one.  
But this time, Emma understood all by herself.  
She was the one who had created the book, right? Or at least, the one who had made it the way it was.  
It wanted to remind her how her real past was and finally, it was succeeding in doing it.  
There, were the memories of her past. Those were her true memories. And that book was the place where they had always laid.  
She returned Regina's gaze, just for a moment, fearful. Then whispered.  
"These are my memories..."  
She felt Regina's eyes on her even then, but she didn't dare to turn, until her voice reached her.  
"This is how you remember us?" she asked.  
Emma nodded, and wondered not even a bit about that question.  
Yes, that was the way she remembered them: powerful, glorious, beautiful and free, even after everything that had happened between them, and it was like those drawing infused all of that and even more, with their bright colors and the natural realism of their lines.  
What was there would never change, not even by force.  
She could lose her memories, but she would never lose her feelings.  
And suddenly, everything seemed clear in Emma's mind. It was like those images had brought the memories back to their original place, putting all the others into a corner of her mind, out of her reach.  
Now, she knew exactly what was true and what was not. Now, she knew exactly who she was, who they were.  
And she didn't remember feeling that good in a long time.

When she dared to look at Regina's face though, she found a puzzlement on it.  
"But...I don't understand" she said, still concentrated on the pages, so beautiful she was making Emma's heart ache.  
"You already remember all of this, but these drawings just appeared. Why is it showing it all to you right now?"  
Emma shook her head as Regina started once again to flip through the pages.  
"I have no idea."  
And she was so lost in her thoughts that when Regina abruptly stopped at the end of the book, she didn't even notice it.  
Only a question after a prolonged silence brought her attention back there.  
"And what is this?"  
It was Regina's tone of voice what sent a shiver down her spine. It was deep, dangerous, suspicious and distant.  
Maybe a part of Emma hated that habit the other woman had of changing her attitude so quickly, before even explaining why. It made her so difficult to read that she just couldn't stop trying.  
"What?" Emma asked. But when she laid her eyes on the page she just ran out of words as she understood what the other was talking about.  
On the last page of the book, there was another drawing, just like all the previous one: beautiful, colorful and very similar looking to the real them.  
But it was different, it was not a memory, it depicted something which had never happened.  
The two were together as always, but they were in the vault, and they were kissing passionately, as Emma pushed Regina against the stone wall.  
There were candles around them, and even a book laid on a piece of furniture.  
There was something strange in that drawing, something familiar. It was even too clear to be accepted.  
But what bothered the both of them most of all, even if neither of them dared to speak it out loud, was the expression they had on their faces during that kiss.  
It was different from anything they had seen on their faces before. It was an expression of peace, of relief, of abandon, of pure love, which found, in that union, its way to flee from inside them to spread all around them.  
There was magic in it, and there were more emotions then they thought they had ever held inside their hearts.  
"What is this?" Regina asked once again, and from the way it sounded Emma could say she was running out of patience.  
But something had clicked inside of her, just a few seconds before.  
Because that drawing was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen, and she had never searched for perfection in her life, but right then, perfection was all that was being offered to her, and if that book and her wanting to keep her memories, meant she was not a coward, than she wouldn't be a coward, not even then.  
She understood they had reached the end in that right moment. She understood she was on the verge of something unique, about to be her last, most difficult and most important step.  
She knew that was the point of no return.

She looked at Regina, and she forced her eyes to remain there, bearing the weight of her gaze, without trying to run away.  
"This is my wish. It's what I wish to remember."  
She answered and, even if they had been mostly silent until then, it seemed that a heavy cloud of deep silence suddenly filled the vault.  
The air was crackling in Emma's ears, of fear, anticipation and magic. All of that was pulling at every string of her, tensing her body to the break point, as Regina kept not answering her.  
She looked almost angry and totally uncomfortable, as she crossed her arms on her chest.  
"I don't want to see your wish. Why would this damn book want to show you your memories and even your wishes? Don't you know them already?"  
It must be upsetting for her, Emma thought, not having the answers to everything, not understanding that magic, which was slowly and sneakily making a fool out of them both.  
It would have been also upsetting for Emma, if she hadn't already been in a strange feeling of calm, which can come only after a great revelation and an even greater understanding.  
Because now everything was clear to her. And so now everything was on her.  
"It doesn't want to show them to me. It wants to show them to you."  
She said slowly, choosing the words the best she could.  
Regina snorted at that.  
Obviously.  
"It wants to show them to me? And tell me, why should it? Its role is to remind, right? How could all of this remind me what I've forgotten?"  
Emma shook her head slowly.  
"What you are forgetting is its other aim."  
Regina grew even more perplexed.  
"What?"  
"One of its aims is to remind, the other is...to make one believe."  
It was Regina's turn to slowly shook her head, even if from the look in her eyes, Emma could say that realization was starting to creep inside of her.  
So, Emma decided to take advantage of the moment.  
"It is trying to make you believe in us, in what we are able to do together, in how powerful we are, when we are together."  
Regina kept on shaking her head more decisively now, tightening her arms to her chest even more and taking a step back.  
"There is nothing to believe."  
And her voice was so cold, her were eyes so scared and she was so distant, that for a moment, Emma just lost all of her hopes.  
"Why are you angry?" she simply asked. Because Emma herself could be the cause of her anger, but what was even more important was that it wasn't Regina's own destiny.  
She swallowed, and it was like guilt fell on her abruptly. Then she seemed to lower her shield just for a moment, letting Emma see everything that was devouring her on the inside.  
It panged painfully to Emma's heart, and all she wanted to do right then was run to her, hold her and kiss her, just like she had seen on that drawing. But she knew perfectly well she couldn't, not yet at least, so she didn't even get closer, leaving her her own space.  
"Because...I'm scared." She admitted, swallowing again.  
"Scared of what?"  
"Of what all of this could mean."  
And yes, Emma was feeling scared too, because she had never faced a monster as big and dangerous as the one she was facing right then, in the silence of an old vault, made by sighs and salt water from held back tears; but somehow she had decided to beat it. Maybe because she felt tired of always running away, maybe because that year and all it had brought to her, and taken away from her, had helped her understand how much she would have lost if she had ran away this time.  
So, Emma just smiled.  
She got closer to the drawing and slowly caressed the coarse paper with her fingers. Then she looked at Regina.  
"Come here."  
The brunette did as she was told and, watching her get uncertainly closer, Emma lost every trace of anger or resentment towards her that was left in her heart.  
When she was near, she looked once again at the drawing, her heart beating fast in her chest, as she spoke again.  
"Do you see? This is what you're wearing."  
She pointed at Regina's clothes on the drawing, and they were the one she had on in that moment, a deep red blouse and a black skirt.  
"Do you know what it means?"  
Regina just looked at her, maybe waiting for an answer to that rhetorical question, maybe already knowing it.  
"It means it's not too late. It mean it could happen right now, as it could have happened an year ago, as it could happen in the future. It means there is still a chance for us..."  
Regina kept on staring at her and swallowed slightly.  
"And what would your wish mean, if it came true?"  
Emma breathed. One, two, three times. Because the weight of every single word right then was too much to just blurt it out.  
"It could mean nothing, or it could mean everything." she said slowly, just like they were creature of thin ice and her words were steps on the surface.  
"It could be just a memory, or it could be a promise."  
She raised her eyes on Regina's, just to drown inside those dark, rough waters.  
"It could be my wish, but you will be the one to give it meaning."  
And this was all she needed to say. She had taken her step; she had stuck her hand out.  
Now, all she could do was wait for Regina to accept or to decline the invitation to that dance on the notes of their destinies.  
Regina stood silent, almost absent, lost in thoughts. They had gotten physically closer to each other than they had been that night, and emotively closer than they had ever been during all those years, moments, encounters and spells.  
And, once again, Regina's scent was mind-blowing , and her slightly parted lips mere inches away were terribly distracting, but right then, only Regina's words mattered.  
The words which would define Emma's future from then on.  
And Emma hated herself, because she had promised to never let anyone have that power on her again, but Emma loved Regina from the depth of her heart, and she just couldn't help but depend on her choices.  
Then something broke, the air froze, and Regina spoke.  
"I...I don't want to be just a memory."  
And Emma's existence in this world took a new meaning for her at those words.  
Because Regina could have drowned her, instead she had saved her. And this was everything she needed to know.  
Her eyes were clear, pure, tormented, but honest, and she knew she couldn't demand anything different from Regina, because she was Regina, and she was like that, and Emma loved her for that also.

She felt her own eyes getting wet, but she didn't care about it. Instead, she took a step closer to her and softly grabbed her hand, bringing it up between their chests.  
Regina's eyes were sparkling too, by warm, orange light reflected on drops of emotions, and she seemed so perfect in everything she was, that Emma felt the sudden and bone-shaking fear to ruin it all just with one word or motion, so she needed a few seconds to regain enough courage to speak, answering her last sentence.  
And her answer was another question.  
"Do you love me?"  
While the whole world was held in that shared space, she squeezed Regina's hand.  
Regina looked lost at first, but when she really met Emma's eyes again, it was like she found in their pure green, the light of the day, the exit from the labyrinth of her mind, the answer to all her questions and what could make her doubt of each one of her certainties.  
But a light shone back in her own eyes, and that was the sign that it was too late.  
It was too late to hold back, it was too late to deny her feelings, it was too late to run away.  
It was too late to do anything but confess. Because after all, she had already done it in the moment when she had wanted to be remembered.  
It was just too late to not say 'yes'.  
And when Emma heard those three easy letters escape the other's mouth, she still waited in silence, refusing to believe, refusing to deceive herself once again, until she had a confirmation, because she couldn't stand another betrayal.  
But then, Regina's voice reached her ears, once again, and it became too late to run away, even for Emma, who felt for the first time in her whole life, the unbeatable desire to never leave.  
"I love you" her lips whispered, caressing Emma's soul.  
And, "I love you" Emma was barely able to say before crashing her lips against hers, just like the wave crushes against the rocks.  
And it felt like the whole universe circling around them suddenly collapsed right above them, in a storm of sharp pieces of glass, as the pain they had felt throughout their whole lives, and warm, shooting rain, which would heal the wounds of their hearts pouring over them, washing their souls from every sin and gifting their lives of the purest, most transparent kind of freedom, the one that belongs to the escaped raindrops from a torn sky. 

Thunder exploded just outside the thick stone walls, so strong that they could feel it reverberating through the ground, shaking it, but it was too low to be heard or cared about, compared to the one which was exploding inside their chest.  
Emma pushed Regina against the nearest wall, mere inches away from the open book, just like she had seen herself doing in that drawing, without even thinking about it.  
It was just how things were meant to be.  
And finding support against something steadier than her own, trembling legs, she discovered for the first time that her own desires and the destiny which had been meant for her, didn't have to be so distant, after all.  
Her destiny had brought her to that town anyway, even if she was the savior meant to hate the queen.  
It had brought her to Regina.  
But she wanted to love the queen, not hate her, she always had. And now, for the first time, she felt actually ready to be the savior and to do what she was meant to do, even while going against all of it and being nothing of what she had to be, following her heart's desires.  
Because now, she understood that it didn't really matter who she was or what she had to do.  
All that really mattered was what she was feeling right in that moment, and what she was feeling was love.  
Pure love, true love, which she felt exploding into her chest as soon as she figured it out.  
And that was the moment when the other part of her, the magical one, really joined her human part for the first time, making her feel complete and perfect just like she was.  
That was also the moment when she completely found Regina, every part of her, her magical one and her human one, her evil one and her good one, and accepted them all without exceptions or doubts.  
And they were just right, a right thing in the universe, something which clicked into place, something which was powerful and glorious, like it could be only when they were together.  
It was overwhelming, it was magical, and she wondered if that almost unbearable warmth she was feeling spreading inside her chest was what her parents meant when they spoke about true love. 

Then, suddenly, the world seemed to lighten up all around them, and it did just like if they were the ones who were lighting it up, even from where they were, deep in the ground, under the storm, and that made them both open their eyes once again.  
They parted their lips, almost painfully, just like they were giving up the most addictive drug, even more addictive, dangerous and compelling than magic itself, and they looked in one another's eyes, almost in wonder, because after all, they hadn't really believed in what they would be able to be together until they had done it. Their magic had never intertwined as perfectly as it had done right in that moment, and somehow, it felt as though they had never really known their own magic before that.  
And they probably had not even really gotten to know each other before that, because the person they had right in front of them in that moment, was totally different from the one they used to know before.  
She was someone new, someone who had just been born again, someone whose wishes and hopes and faith had been brought again to see the light.  
She was someone they both knew they could never give up on again, no matter how hard and long the road would still be.  
She was someone who had been regenerated from love, and it was like this for Emma and it was like this for Regina.  
But they both had been left too baffled even to smile, so they just stared at each other.  
"What was that?" Emma whispered, barely succeeding in tearing her gaze away from Regina to look around for a few seconds, before laying it on her once again.  
Regina swallowed like she was trying to regain her composure and her lucidity.  
"Magic" she said, still looking into her eyes, panting as she laid her back against the wall.  
Emma swallowed in turn, almost fearing to ask the question which was slowly consuming her mind.  
"Do you think we...broke the spell? Do you...remember something?"  
And she feared it so much because if they had broken the spell, then it would have meant they had performed the only magic powerful enough to break any curse, and that was...  
"No...I still don't remember anything." Regina said softly.  
But, if they hadn't, then it probably meant that what they felt wasn't as strong as Emma believed it to be, and maybe she was just deceiving herself once again and now things would go back to being as they were before. After all they had already passed the line between the passion and the feeling before, and that time, it hadn't ended so well.  
But, as her eyes started to fill, once again, with doubts and questions, she felt Regina's hands on her face, holding it right before her, as she looked in her eyes.  
"Emma. It doesn't mean our...our magic was not strong enough. Just, magic has many ways of working.  
It's not always a kiss that solve a situation. Do not believe in your parents' fairytales. Sometimes, it needs something more, especially because this curse is not directly connected to us, or at least I believe it is not, but...there will be another way. Our magic will find another way, its way, to act.  
You don't have to worry about that, do you understand?"  
There was a strange urgency in her voice, just like she had perfectly understood what Emma's worry was about and couldn't help reassuring her, just like she didn't want to risk losing her.  
Maybe it was because they really were bonded to each other right then, so they could understand one another, even more than they could before.  
Anyway, that was everything Emma needed to hear and to see, so she just smiled, caressing Regina's hand on her own face, touched by her words, because she didn't expect them and still, she believed in them completly.  
"Yes, I understand."  
She thought about her next words for a moment and then smiled even more.  
"Do you think we are finished running away from each other at every possible occasion?"  
And Regina couldn't avoid a small, tired smile pulling up the corners of her lips.  
"You should show some respect, Miss Swan."  
Emma smiled so much that she thought she was probably going to strain her lips.  
"Or I could kiss you, Madame Mayor. I should probably say your majesty... but you will always be Madame Mayor to me." She ended, after thinking over it for a moment.  
Then, without another word, she leaned towards her and kissed her deeply once again, feeling Regina also smile against her lips and a joy which was unknown before, creeping inside her, making her feel almost as though she was going to vanish inside it and that kiss, right then and there.  
Just one last need brought her to separate from Regina's lips: it was the need to look her in those beautiful, unique eyes, hearing her saying those words, which they held inside themselves, the most powerful magic of all, once again.  
"Say it to me once again. Do you love me?"  
Regina rolled her eyes, holding back a laughter, and Emma couldn't say that she had seen her this happy ever before. She was sparkling.  
"Yes, Miss Swan, I love you. Now would you let me go?"  
Emma burst into laughter, just like a fool, and looked at her with a challenging look in her eyes, which she hadn't looked at her with for so long.  
"I really don't think so."  
Then she leaned forward once again, pinning her even more against the wall, kissing her one more time. And she would probably have kept kissing her forever like that, if Regina hadn't suddenly shoved her off to look her in the eyes in turn.  
"And what about Henry? I want him back. I can't be without him anymore."  
Emma smiled softly this time, grabbing her hand once again and gently squeezing it.  
"You won't. Henry is your son too. We will bring his memory back. We are not going anywhere."  
Those words brought back a smile to Regina's lips, which Emma had missed too much during those seconds of absence and she realized, kissing her once again, that she wouldn't need and wouldn't want anything else in her life other than making her smile.  
"I love you, Regina", she felt the need to say against her lips after a few moments, feeling blessed for being allowed to say the words she had wanted to say for a long time.  
And "I love you, Emma", was what left Regina's lips. The most honest words Emma believed she had ever heard in her whole life. 

And finally, she understood that Regina was her only true memory, and she was better than every possible reality and every possible dream she might have.  
Because home is where the memories lie, and where love and family are, and now she understood Regina was and would always be her home.


	8. Home- Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading my whole story! I'm sorry for any possible mistake in the format, I hope they didn't give you trouble in reading.   
> This has been an incredible journey, thank you once again to anyone who helped me!  
> Long live SwanQueen!

The day after, Emma brought Henry to the harbor.  
It was a bright and lukewarm afternoon, almost the sunset, to be honest, even too warm for Storybrooke winter. Or maybe, it was just a bright and beautiful day for Emma. This she couldn't say.  
Anyway, when she had talked to Henry about meeting someone from their past, he had understood almost at once who she was talking about. She hadn't wanted to tell him in advance, but he had got it anyway, "by the way Emma smiled talking about her", just to say it using his words.  
And in front of those words, she had been able to do nothing but confirm his suspicions and tell him the truth, as she had promised him on a distant day he probably didn't even remember to do always.  
So, they ended up sitting there, on a bench in front of the wet dock, staring absently at the oscillating yards in silence. 

That day has already been pretty difficult, honestly.  
After the previous night in the vault, she had reached her parents house in the early morning, just to not make sure Henry didn't wake up without finding her around.  
Of course, she hadn't told them anything about what had happened. She had just reassured her mother by telling her that she had talked to Regina the night before and that by then, she was sure the woman had nothing to do with the curse, hoping Snow would believe her.  
Then, they had tried to get back at least a bit of what they liked to call "normality", that they all had missed so much during that year they had been apart, by going to have breakfast at Granny's diner.  
Henry had come with them, of course, and there, they had met Regina.

The shock on her face had been clear when she had first seen Henry again, and Emma had tried to figure out what it had to be like to discover her own son, grown up, after an year of believed-endless absence of him.  
But after all, she had told herself, she already knew that feeling very well, since she had met her son after the first ten years of his life for the first time, during which, she had believed she would never see him again.  
And for this reason, she could imagine how Regina had to feel in that exact moment even better.  
So, she had stood up and reached out for her, bringing her to a place where they could talk undisturbed.  
And there, they talked about that whole situation, a little ashamed of staying directly under the other's gaze, after the night before, but feeling as strong and safe, knowing that they were allowed to count on the other's help, as they had never felt, not even in each other's presence.  
Of course, the curse was a real problem, but Henry was also. He needed to have his memories back.  
They needed him to fight with them, because honestly, the best ideas were always his, but most of all, Regina needed him to remember her, and so did Emma.  
So, they had decided to try facing it all at the same time, taking accords about a plan to unmask the culprit and talking about all the needed ingredients to prepare a new memory potion, which would be useful both for Storybrooke's inhabitants and Henry.  
They had decided to act separately, even while collaborating, because they knew the mind of those town folks very well, and pretending to not expect what was about to come, was just useless and absurd, as bad and wrong as it may be. 

But, just before departing, Emma hadn't been able to hold back herself from grabbing Regina, giving her a quick but passionate kiss on the lips, almost unexpectedly returned by the other. A kiss which stole, with her breath, her soul.  
She had continued staring her in the eyes, still close to her, for a little longer, before the voices from the diner had brought them back to reality.  
And before letting her go, she gave her a little, but reassuring smile, which meant only one thing: everything would be alright as long as they would be together.  
And, of course, her relationship would keep being hidden at least a little longer, because, clearly, it was not the right moment to have that talk with every inhabitant of Storybrooke, but especially with Henry and Emma's parents.  
But...they had a relationship; they were together, finally; they loved each other, and this was enough to make Emma feel like the luckiest and strongest person in the whole world.

So, they had spent the early part of the day searching for a solution to all their magical problems and trying to discover the culprit, helped by all their "friends" and family.  
It had been weirdly wonderful and a little bit shameful how the two were constantly searching for contact. They took advantage of every moment that they were far from others' eyes to look inside theirs, freely sharing, in that one single gaze, all the depth and truth of their feelings.  
Emma felt relieved that she was able to do it without having to wonder again and again what their relationship was every time , making her unable to help doing it every time she had the chance to.  
Their lips twitched, their fingers brushed, or their eyes met.  
Anyway, in one way or another, all day long, they succeeded in keeping constant contact, and this gave Emma even more courage when the latest part of the day came.  
And she was almost sure that, despite all the previous "magic problems", that the latest one was going to be the hardest part of the day, the part in which she would introduce Henry to Regina.

They had set aside an hour for their encounter at the harbor, but Emma had got there earlier just to have time to reflect a bit on what was going to happen and talk with Henry, just in case it would be needed.  
Anyway, Henry seemed more relaxed and ready than she herself was, so she got to the conclusion that she was probably the one who needed a talk and a couple of reassurances before their meeting.  
They remained sat in silence though, on that bench, as Emma stole furtive glances towards Henry, from time to time, which did nothing but build up her own anxiety.  
Eventually, she tried to speak.  
"Hey kid, are you alright?"  
Henry nodded without saying a word. Then, after a couple of breaths, he finally spoke.  
"Did we come here for this? For her, I mean." He asked, out of the blue.  
Emma shook her head.  
"No Henry. It had been...a coincidence, more or less."  
"Once, you told me coincidences do not exist." He answered, leaving her speechless.  
"Yeah, I...I guess I did."  
She sighed, giving up once again, at her son's intelligence.  
"Well she is...bound to the case, I'd say. We are here to help her, among other people."  
Henry slowly nodded.  
"So, I was right; you left Walsh for her, to come back here to her."  
Emma shook her head once again.  
"No, Henry. I would have left Walsh anyway. He was not...the person I believed him to be, believe me."  
Henry just looked at her and nodded in understanding before turning towards the ships and boats once again.

Another few minutes passed before Emma tried to speak again.  
"We won't ever lose what we have between the two of us, you know this, right? Whomever may come into our lives."  
Henry turned to look at her.  
"You don't have to worry so much, mom. I'm not a little boy anymore; I can take this.  
I was ready to accept your marriage to a man, so..."  
Emma smiled and then took his hand in hers. She was so proud of her little boy, even if he was not so little anymore, as he had said.  
" Thank you, Henry. Anyway, I was saying the truth: what is between me and you will always be just between me and you. No one will ever change this."  
He squeezed her hand in return, smiling, and soon they were silent again.  
She probably had wrongly decided to come so much in advance. Anyway, the sea in front of them was beautiful, and it offered them a great means of distraction. 

After another couple of minutes, Henry spoke again, being the first to do it this time.  
"Hey mom, I was just thinking...didn't she leave you, just like everyone else did?"  
Emma felt a pang of sorrow inside her chest, but right after, she hurried to correct him, shaking her head vigorously.  
"For her, it's different. You know, there are parts of the story I didn't tell you and I can't tell you because she is the only one who can. But, believe me, she suffered by our separation, too. If she had had any other choice, she would have come back to us, but..."  
then Emma turned towards him, looking in his eyes as she talked to him.  
"Listen, Henry. I know this all can seem...complicated, ok? But it really is not. She loved you and even if you don't remember her, she still loves you. Of course, she is sorry for all the years she spent apart from you, but..." she swallowed, trying to comply with her false memory version.  
"...but now, she wants to make up for lost time and...I just ask you to give her a chance, ok? Could you do that for me? She had never wanted to abandon you."  
And in some way, Emma felt like she was trying to justify her own, real, actions too with those words.  
Henry nodded slowly.  
"I told you; you don't have to worry mom!"  
Emma smiled and just kissed him on his cheek.

They had only a few more moments to talk before Regina arrived, and of course, Henry didn't miss it to ask her some uncomfortable questions.  
"Hey mom..."  
"Mh?"  
"Have you and Regina made up and are you now going to be together again?"  
Emma looked at him in astonishment.  
"I...I don't know kid, it's been so long. We will see, ok? This is really not the time to talk about this."  
Henry nodded and didn't investigate further, so Emma could take a sigh of relief.  
And after a few seconds, they heard Regina's footsteps on the wood of the jetty and they simultaneously stood up and turned.

'She is amazing'  
was the first thing Emma thought of her, and she really was.  
She was walking gracefully at a perfectly steadied pace in her black high heels, wrapped in a black coat.  
A perfect silhouette wrapped in the flames of a burning sunset.  
She looked beautiful, and not just because she was actually beautiful.  
There was immeasurable love, deep fear and very emphasized insecurities inside her eyes, which made her even more human and even more beautiful than she already was, and Emma totally loved this.  
She approached them with a stretched smile on her lips, which showed all of her tension, before stopping next to their bench.  
She looked at Henry, deeply and silently, and then held out her hand, attempting to smile even more.  
"Hi, I'm..."  
But fortunately, Henry had never been a shy boy, and, in some way, he took her out of her misery.  
He smiled and held her hand, shaking it.  
"Regina Mills, I know. I'm Henry. It's nice to meet you. "  
Regina smiled, completely moved, and Emma could clearly see the tears suddenly filling her eyes.  
"It's nice to meet you too..." she answered, her voice barely audible.  
At that point, Emma decided to take the lead because for some reason, she thought that crying wasn't a good point to start with.  
"Ok, so... I guess we could sit down and talk for a bit." she said, smiling widely.  
They both nodded as they sat down, Henry in the middle of them two.

Actually, for the first few moments, they just stared at each other, awkwardly silent, Regina on the verge of tears and Henry in a mixture of wonder and uncertainty.  
Emma stayed silence too, because she was just too incredulous about the three being there.  
They were finally all together, finally as a family, even if a very peculiar one because one member didn't remember another one. But, it was so amazing all the same that she just couldn't stop wondering at it.  
Then, Henry finally broke the ice.  
"So, you were my foster mother?"  
Regina smiled sincerely at him and then met briefly Emma's eyes.  
"Hi."  
She said.  
And really, Emma felt herself about to laugh, because after all those years, they were there once again.  
They were once again in their first night, their first encounter, at the moment which had changed their lives forever.  
And Henry was there too, finally, he was their son, and he stayed between them, bonding them more than anything else, just like it had always been. 

And that afternoon, while the sun slowly disappeared behind an ocean cover, and the moon made its way up to the highest skies, opening their curtain on a spectacular show of a million, brilliant stars, she understood that right in that moment, they had everything they had ever wanted.  
Regina and Henry fit perfectly with one another. They had talked about that fake shared past at first, but soon, they had started talking about different things, and as soon as they had become comfortable, there was no time when there was nothing to say.  
And this was wonderful, Emma thought.  
And maybe, it meant something too.  
Maybe this was a second chance for them all.  
Of course, she wanted Henry to have his memory back, but things would be different by then, because he would have also new memories, memories with the two of them.  
Even if, after all, what this really meant, Emma thought, was that they didn't need any memories.  
Because they could be someone else, somewhere else, with a different life and a different past, but somehow they would always keep the love that bonded them safe inside their hearts.  
Because what her parents always said was right: they were meant to always find each other.  
And nothing more than this could make them a family, a beautiful, wonderful family, the family Emma had always searched for, her home.  
It was now her reality, it would always be her dream, and it was the place where the best memories of her life would lie. Forever.


End file.
